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POEMS 


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By 


LEONORA  MILLIKEN  BOSS 


Published  by 
AUSTIN  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

LOS  ANGELES,  CAL. 


-J^ 


Copyright,  1918,  by 
Leonora  Milliken  Boss 


CONTENTS 

Page 

A  Christmas  Story 59 

A  Christmas  Story 63 

Another     48 

A  Lesson 38 

A  Lesson 39 

A  Lesson    26 

A  Message  (To  M) 69 

A  Message 78 

A  Sermon  27 

Ask  and  Ye  Shall  Receive 32 

A  Thanksgiving  Story 51 

A  True   Story 56 

California   42 

Capital  and  Labor 22 

Delve    25 

Equality    20 

For  Roselle  Smith 13 

Friendship     IS 

House  of  HohenzoUem 72 

Madge  Sinclair 11 

Memorial  Day   31 

Oh   Ye    of   Little   Faith 14 

On  the  Battlefields  of  France 77 

Our  Eastern  Star 24 

Poems  Prophetic   72 

Practice  and  Preaching 36 

Sequel    62 

Thanksgiving    50 

The  Coming  of  Truth 34 

The  Eastland  46 

The  Forest   79 

The  Good  Ship  Progression 35 

The  Great  Cross  of  Red 77 

The  Healing  Power  of  Nature 76 

The  Lake  Sequoia  7 

The  Land  I  Love  the  Best 44 

The  Legacy 71 

The  Passing   30 

The  Redwood  Forest   9 

The  Sequoias  41 

The  Source 49 

The  Tie  that  Binds 18 

The  Titanic 16 

Unchained  License  37 

What  Is  Faith  and  What  Is  Prayer? 19 


389375 


INSPIRATIONAL  POEMS 

BY 

Leonora  Milliken  Boss 


THE  LAKE  SEQUOIA 

In  a  setting  of  pines  and  cedars, 

The  lake  Sequoia  lies; 
And  in  its  depths  reflected, 

Shine  forth  the  azure  skies. 

Wrapped  in  this  beauteous  setting, 
Who  could,  unmoved,  behold 

The  rare  and  splendid  beauty, 
By  poets  pen  untold. 

And  when  the  night  advances. 
And  the  moon  above  the  pines 

Shines  forth  upon  the  water, 
The  setting  then  combines 

To  entrance  and  holds  the  looker 
Who  Nature's  works  admire; 

They  can  gaze  and  gaze  in  wonder, 
Gathered  'round  the  old  camp  fire. 

The  beauties  of  stream  and  forest; 

The  falls.  Sequoia,  near; 
All  tell  of  a  splendid  Sculptor, 

A  Sculptor  without  peer. 

The  mountains  are  the  handiwork, 
As  also  the  setting  grand; 

But  lake  Sequoia  cannot  claim 
This  Sculptor's  mighty  hand. 


A kV1  ;•••*'.'**•'  ilnsp^aiional  Poems 

But,  beautiful  in  the  setting, 
Bestowed  by  Nature's  hand, 

She  shines  forth  in  that  beauty 
Of  which  she  has  command. 

Above  this  forest  masterpiece 
The  giant  redwoods  tower; 

Here  lies  the  "Fallen  Monarch," 
Great  in  his  passing  hour. 

Beside  him,  ever  standing  guard, 
Is  "Lee,"  a  giant  straight  and  tall; 

While  higher  still,  above  them 
Is  "Grant,"  in  command  of  all, 

From  whom  the  national  park. 

Later,  derived  its  name; 
From  whom  its  popularity 

In  the  greatest  measure  came. 

Combining  all  these  beauties 
With  the  wonders  here  and  there, 

Make  this  great  forest  masterpiece 
A  scene  beyond  compare. 

But,  adding  to  the  natural  scene. 

That  'round  about  it  lies; 
The  artificial  beauty 
Of  the  lake  Sequoia,  vies. 
July  8th,  1914. 

♦The  Lake  Sequoia  is  an  artificial  lake,  in  the  Sierras, 
California,  near  General  Grant  Park.  The  named  trees 
are  Redwoods  (Sequoias)  and  are  in  this  Park;  the 
General  Grant  measuring  108  feet  around  at  the  base. 
They  are  several  thousand  years  old. 


Inspirational  Poems 


THE  REDWOOD  FOREST 

Many  years  have  passed  and  gone, 
Since  red  men  by  the  score, 

Trailed  through  the  high  Sierras, 
On  fair  Pacific's  shore. 

They  roamed  the  wildwood  knowing 
Their  every  need  was  there; 

For  One  above  had  furnished 
Their  humble,  daily  fare. 

The  forest  was  their  hunting  ground, 
The  wigwam  was  their  home; 

And  happy  and  contented, 
They,  day  by  day,  would  roam. 

They  cared  not  to  destroy  the  growth, 
The  "Great  Spirit"  planted  there. 

And  so  the  forest  grew  apace, 
A  thing  of  beauty  rare. 

Great  redwoods  towered  as  giants, 

Above  all  species  known; 
They  grew  there  unmolested, 

While  the  redman  held  his  own. 

But  lo!  the  white  man  entered 
The  Indian's  rightful  home. 

And  took  possession  forcibly; 
An  outcast  he  must  roam. 

Then  taking  axe  and  wedge  and  saw, 
He  entered  the  forest  great; 

And  each  tree  there,  so  stately, 
Would  share  an  equal  fate. 

Not  one  thought  would  e'er  be  given. 
Of  the  years  it  took  to  grow. 

Those  perfect  trees  of  redwood. 
Which  now  would  be  laid  low. 


10  Inspirational  Poems 

For  the  white  man's  head  could  never 

In  a  wigwam  sheltered  be; 
A  house  must  have  a  covering 

Of  shingles;  don't  you  see? 

And  what  so  beautiful  as  redwood, 
For  the  roof  and  for  the  side? 
So  were  doomed  the  forest  beauties; 
For  rank  selfishness,  they  died. 

The  work  of  thousand  years  and  more. 

Was  ruthlessly  laid  low, 
And  the  ruin  that  was  wrought 

Charred  stumps  today  will  show. 

What  was  placed  here  by  the  Father, 
What  should  have  been  our  pride, 

For  the  selfish  greed  of  white  men, 
In  greatest  measure  died. 

So  we  wonder  if  improvement 
Follows  ever  the  pale  of  face? 

Or  if  there  was  not  something  lost 
With  passing  of  red-skinned  race. 

And  we  wonder,  and  we  wonder. 

In  our  egotistic  pride. 
If  selfishness  has  taken  root 

And  forever  will  abide. 

And  if  the  Father  careth 

For  His  white  children  all, 
And  seeth  everything  they  do? 

Notes  "every  sparrow's  fall"; 

And  if  perchance  there  may  not  be 

A  warmer  spot  than  all  the  rest. 
And,  in  His  heart,  He  may  not  love 
His  red-skinned  children  best. 
August  1st,  1914. 

Written  upon  seeing  the  charred  stumps  of  what  was 
once  a  fine  grove  of  redwoods  in  the  Sierras,  near  General 
Grant  National  Park. 


Inspirational  Poems  11 


MADGE  SINCLAIR 

We  wish  to  give  to  you  this  morn, 
An  example  of  worth  most  true, 

Showing  that  each,  within  himself, 
A  work  of  great  good  may  do. 

The  New  Year  day  dawned  bright  and  clear, 
And  resounding  on  the  frosty  air 

Was  the  music  of  the  sleigh-bells, 
Borne  into  home  of  Madge  Sinclair. 

Old  Madge  was  called  a  witch,  you  know, 
By  all  those  simple  country  folk; 

And  every  one  in  passing  by 

Would  crack  at  her  expense  some  joke. 

This  morn  she  sat  at  her  fireside, 

And,  pondering  o'er  the  past. 
She  wondered  why,  against  her  will. 

She  bore  the  name  of  witch,  outcast. 

She  could  not  ward  off  the  rappings. 
She  could  not  do  away  with  the  voice. 

Which  came  and  ever  kept  coming; 
It  bade  her  take  heart  and  rejoice. 

That  she  was  among  the  favored  of  earth. 
And,  as  a  servant,  she  was  to  help  bear 

A  great  and  mighty  truth  from  God. 
To  her  brethren  so  ignorant  there. 

She  had  been  chosen  by  One  who  knew. 
And  though  she  seemed  to  stand  alone, 

''Remember  that  'He  who  doeth  well,' 
The  path  of  duty  to  you  hath  shown. 

And  for  this  work  which  you're  to  do 
A  recompense  you'll  surely  see. 

For  a  power  you  do  not  understand 
Hath  given  a  charge  concerning  thee. 


12  Inspirational  Poems 

The  jingling  of  the  bells  aroused  her; 

And,  starting  up,  her  heart  stood  still; 
For  the  sleigh  was  o'erturned,  and  the  driver 

She  thought  the  horses  would  kill. 

Not  one  moment  she  waited  to  think  of  self; 

For  the  voice  had  bidden  her  go 
And  lend  her  aid  in  the  rescuing  then 

Of  the  injured  out  there  in  the  snow. 

She  found  there  were  several  needing  help, 
And  aiding  them  all,  as  best  she  might. 

She  got  them  into  her  dwelling; 

Where  was  burning  the  fire  so  bright. 

She  warmed  and  fed,  she  bound  up  bruises; 

And,  thru  the  power  that  to  her  was  given, 
She  was  enabled  to  warm  their  hearts; 

A  gift  that  she  had  asked  from  heaven. 

And  as  the  story  was  noised  abroad, 
(For  the  leaven  of  good  worketh  well) ; 

Many  there  came  to  inquire  of  her. 
And  many  good  words  there  fell 

From  those  who  had  been  as  leaders 

In  the  mockery  heretofore; 
And  the  leaven  kept  on  ever  working, 

As  worked  the  leaven  of  yore. 

And  inquiring  more  into  hidden  truths, 
Unfolding  by  each  one  learned, 

They  came  at  last  to  understand 
That  truth  which  they  had  spurned. 

And  this  is  what  I  would  show  you  all; 

That  forth  from  the  lowliest  home 
May  the  seed  of  truth  be  scattered, 

And  forever  it  will  roam. 

Wafted  onward  by  a  zephyr's  breath, 
So  light,  that  none  would  e'er  see. 

It  grows  and  grows  in  volume; 
This  truth  which  shall  set  you  free. 


Inspirational  Poems  13 

And  a  better  time  is  knocking,  friends, 
Oh!  will  you  not  now  let  it  in, 

Or  will  you  drive  forth  from  your  door 
Your  staunchest  friend,  again? 

This  leaven  works;  and  to  you  will  come 

(Without  your  aid,  if  so  must  be), 
The  thing  you  fight  and  censure  now; 
The  friend  who  will  set  you  free. 
November  20th,  1911. 


FOR  ROSELLE  SMITH 

To  one  little  girl  in  the  wild-wood. 

Whose  wish  we  have  caught  on  the  wing. 

This  poem  is  given  to  show  her 
That  tho't  is  a  wonderful  thing. 

Send  it  forth  in  all  goodness,  it  enters 

The  air  and  is  wafted  away, 
Until  it  reaches  a  helpmate 

Who  gives  it  the  pure  light  of  day. 

Now  little  girl,  this  is  prayer, 

And  is  answered  in  God's  own  way, 

Through  agents,  tho'  ever  unknowing, 
Do  the  work  as  is  done  to-day. 

May  this  little  missive  encourage 

You  ever  in  fields  of  right; 
Knowing  that  God  watches  over. 

And  is  never  out  of  sight. 
July  17th,  1918. 


14  Inspirational  Poems 


"OH  YE  OF  LITTLE  FAITH" 

"Oh!  ye  of  little  faith"; 

Oh!  ye  of  judgment  poor 
Why  envy  ye  the  wealthy, 

When  riches  are  at  your  door? 

The  law  is  not  to  "covet," 

But  contented  be  with  your  own; 

Knowing  that  all  shall  surely 

"Reap  the  harvest  they  have  sown." 

There  is  a  "divinity  ever  shaping" 
The  ends  of  each,  while  here; 

And  though  we  oft  "rough  hew"  them, 
The  guiding  hand  is  near. 

The  man  of  smallest  means. 

Laboring  for  those  he  loves  on  earth, 
Is  wealthier  far  than  he  who  fills 

His  coffers  at  the  poor  man's  hearth. 

For  there's  a  power  surrounding 

The  laborer  at  his  toil; 
That  draweth  nearer  through  conditions. 

And  'twill  pour  the  soothing  oil 


On  the  poor  when  time  is  ripe; 

Not  so,  the  man  of  greater  wealth. 
For  he  loses,  in  a  measure. 

His  love  of  God,  in  greed  for  pelf. 

Take  heed  for  the  time  is  nearing 
When  the  millionaire  stands  alone; 

And  those  whom  he's  defrauded 
Shall  come  into  their  own. 

For  tho'  the  Father  (power  divine), 
Would  scatter  love  on  all. 

Some  cannot  catch  the  faintest  echo 
Of  the  chords  that  rise  and  fall. 


Inspirational  Poems  15 

So  patiently  abide  the  time 

When  you  near  the  ''gates  ajar," 

If  not  while  here;  and  you  shall  reap 
Those  blessings  from  afar. 
July  17th,  1918. 


FRIENDSHIP 

We  often  meet  in  walks  of  life, 
Those  who  are  strange  of  face; 

But  they  oftimes  in  passing, 
Have  left  the  faintest  trace 

Of  something  we  can  hardly  name, 
But,  still,  must  own  it's  there; 

A  something  that  in  passing. 
Has  left  our  lives  more  fair. 

And  may  there  not,  in  meeting  here, 

Within  this  forest  grand, 
A  friendship  been  cemented, 

A  friendship  that  will  stand. 

We  meet,  we  part,  we  know  not  how, 

Or  when  again  we'll  meet. 
But  there  is,  in  forest  friendship, 

A  something  rare  and  sweet. 

And  may  it  be  in  after  years, 
These  days  you'll  each  recall. 

And  linger  then  with  fondness 
On  the  crowning  scene  of  all. 

The  forest;  with  its  stately  trees. 
So  large  and  straight  and  grand, 

A  monument  to  friendship. 
For  in  unity  they  stand. 

Not  a  chord  that  is  not  vibrant 

With  harmony  supreme; 
Take  them  ever  for  your  guidance, 

Then  you'll  know  what  friendship  means. 
July  29th,  1918. 


J.6  Inspirational  Poems 


THE  TITANIC 

Out  from  a  port  of  England, 

On  one  fair  April  day, 
The  giant  ship.  Titanic, 

Sailed  proudly  on  her  way. 

People  from  all  lands  had  taken 
Passage  aboard  the  vessel  great; 

It  was  her  maiden  voyage, 
And  a  record  she  was  to  make. 

So,  swiftly  sailing  onward, 

With  that  end  and  aim  in  view, 

She  lost  sight  of  those  aboard  her 
And  put  her  engines  through. 

We'll  make  New  York  in  two  days  more, 

Now  captain,  do  your  best; 
Put  on  more  steam  and  speed  her  up, 

This  is  to  be  a  test. 

This,  in  thought  if  not  in  words; 

When  lo!  there  hove  in  sight 
A  mighty  iceberg,  bearing  down; 

She  was  then  in  sorry  plight. 

Too  late;  although  the  cry  was  given; 

And  the  mighty  ship  went  on 
To  the  doom  which  now  awaited. 

And  would  come,  ere  came  the  dawn. 

Quietly  the  captain  ordered 

A  wireless  message  sent. 
Saying  that  they  were  in  trouble; 

That  the  vessel  had  been  rent 

By  an  iceberg;  and  they  waited 

The  help  of  all  who  heard; 
Knowing  that  the  ship  was  doomed; 

Still  he  gave  out  cheering  word. 


Inspirational  Poems  17 

Standing  high  upon  the  vessel, 

With  a  megaphone  in  hand, 
Came  the  orders  to  the  people. 

From  Captain  Smith,  then  in  command. 

"Man  the  life-boats",  came  the  call; 

"Women  and  children  first"  and  then, 
As  some  of  them  seemed  to  waver. 

He  called,  "Be  British ,  my  men." 

One  by  one  they  filled  the  lifeboats. 
With  the  ones  whom  they  held  dear; 

Striving  all  the  while  to  calm  them, 

Though  their  hearts  were  dumb  with  fear. 

For  they  knew  the  ship  was  doomed. 

Slowly  sinking  all  the  while ; 
Still  they  spoke  in  words  assuring, 

Giving  out  to  them  a  smile. 

"We  will  follow  later,  dear  ones. 
Keep  up  heart  for  you  are  brave"; 

Then  they  turned  to  help  the  others. 
While  they  faced  a  watery  grave. 

When  the  last  boat  left,  they  felt 

That  they  were  now  alone 
Awaiting  death;  slow  torture; 

While  the  moon  on  the  water  shone. 

The  orchestra  commenced  to  play, 

"Nearer  my  God  to  Thee," 
And  as  each  one  heard  the  music. 

More  resigned  they  seemed  to  be, 

Climbing  to  the  topmost  deck. 

Wearing  each,  a  hero's  crown. 
They  waited  yet  the  curtain 

That,  soon  now,  would  go  down. 

And  still  they  played;  and  lower 
Sank  the  ship,  the  seamen's  pride; 

With  the  waters  closing  o'er  her, 
The  bravest  of  heroes  died. 


18  Inspirational  Poems 

A  blot  upon  the  escutcheon 

Which  shows  a  country's  greed; 
All  victims  of  disaster 

Of  which  there  was  no  need. 
The  sinking  of  the  Titanic  occurred  in  April,  1912. 


THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS 

There  are  people  of  various  colors, 

Who  dwell  upon  this  earth; 
They  each  have  a  different  nature, 

Which  honestly  came  by  birth. 

Some  wear  clothes  of  different  kinds, 

While  some  wear  none  at  all ; 
Some  are  short,  some  are  stout. 

And  some  are  slender  and  tall. 

But  the  thing  that  draws  them  together, 

That  holds  them  firm  and  fast, 
Is  the  family  tie  which  binds  them, 

And  this  tie  will  ever  last. 

You  may  kick  against  the  traces. 

You  may  fret  and  fume  in  vain ; 
There  is  nothing  which  can  sever. 

For  natural  law  is  the  binding  chain. 

So,  as  you're  children  of  one  family. 
All  have  a  right  to  their  Father's  love; 

An  equal  share,  along  with  yourself; 
This  comes  to  them  from  above; 

Providing  they're  placed  to  receive  it; 

If  they  ask  in  the  right  kind  of  way, 
For  the  Father's  love  is  boundless. 

It  will  last  forever  and  aye. 

Now  as  you  must  learn  to  place  yourself, 
So  must  your  brethren  do  the  same; 

And,  if  you  are  farther  up  the  ladder. 
Reach  down  your  hand,  in  the  Father's  name. 


Inspirational  Poems  19 

Then  shall  you  advance  another  step, 
For  the  good  deed  you  have  done; 

All  must  work  to  help  each  other; 
Then  the  victory  will  be  won. 

You  cannot  say  "I  am  white  while  you 

Are  only  a  low  down  nigger," 
For  just  such  words  as  these  will  show 

You  up,  at  your  true  figure. 

You  cannot  say,  "I  am  black  and  you 
Are  the  poorest  of  poor  white  trash"; 

For  you  are  not  the  one  to  scourge; 
Your  Father  applies  the  lash. 

So,  whatever  color  may  be  ours, 

Let  us  live  the  best  we  can. 
And  work  with  all  our  strength  to  bring 

The  brotherhood  of  man. 


WHAT  IS  FAITH  AND  WHAT  IS 
PRAYER? 

Faith  is  the  trustful  looking  forward 
To  a  thing  you  think  must  be; 

Prayer  is  the  asking,  in  that  faith, 
Knowing  it  will  come  to  thee. 

Faith  is  next  to  knowledge. 
And  cultivated  well  will  show; 

Prayer  is  the  concentrated  asking. 
And  is  a  flower  that's  sure  to  blow. 

Faith  as  defined  above  must  show  you 
That  few  possess  it  in  the  rough; 

'Tis  a  thing  that  may  be  stored. 
And  one  never  has  enough. 

When  there's  sufficient  quantity. 

Imbued  within  your  soul. 
You  may  ask  and  you'll  receive; 

Much  is  within  your  own  control. 
July  17th,  1918. 


20  Inspirational  Poems 


EQUALITY 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived 
Two  children  of  one  father  kind; 

These  two  were  brother  and  sister, 
But  unlike,  as  you  will  find. 

This  father  desired  them  to  share  alike; 

And,  to  that  end,  he  gave  the  two 
An  equal  right  in  his  estate; 

"Life,  liberty,  and  happiness"  to  pursue. 

But  the  brother,  who  was  stronger, 

Would  run  things  to  his  will ; 
He  thought  his  sister  had  no  rights. 

She  must  ask  him  or  keep  still. 

This  he  had  learned  from  false  teachings; 

And,  as  it  suited  his  pride. 
He  laid  claim  to  all  he  could  see 

Of  his  sister's  whose  rights  he  denied. 

He  felt  that  he  was  such  a  man, 

And  she,  so  weak  and  frail, 
That  he  must  not  allow  her 

What  equal  right  would  entail. 

She  was  more  fit  to  rule  a  home; 

In  ways  that  he  considered  wise; 
Where  he  could  sit  and  smoke  his  pipe, 

Although  she  might  tobacco  despise. 

And  he  might  wish  to  enter 
This  home,  in  a  drunken  trim, 

And  it  were  fit  that  she  be  there, 
To  cheer  and  care  for  him. 

It  would  not  be  home  without  her; 

No,  indeed!  how  could  it  be? 
Who  would  build  the  fires  in  winter, 

Who  would  to  his  comfort  see? 


Inspirational  Poems  21 

She  could  not  be  spared  to  vote; 

And  then,  that  was  not  enough, 
But,  "a  delicate,  dainty  woman" 

Should  not  mingle  with  the  rough. 

And  voting  was  far  too  hard  a  task 

To  impose  on  one  so  frail ; 
So,  he  would  carry  this  heavy  load, 

While  she,  the  "cov/  could  pail." 

So  many  household  duties  claimed  her, 

And  he  wanted  it  understood, 
That  he  was  there  to  protect  her; 

'Twas  enough,  if  she  chopped  the  wood. 

So,  brotherly  affection  grew  apace, 

And  her  burdens  he  kept  lifting. 
Giving  her  such  lightsome  tasks 

As  shoveling  snow  when  drifting. 

But  things  wore  on;  there  came  a  time 
When  the  father  showed  his  hand : 

"My  son,"  he  said,  'TVe  stood  it  long, 
This  is  not  as  I  have  planned." 

"Now  come  you  forward  and  receive 

The  merit  you've  richly  won ; 
I  will  repay  for  the  burdens  lifted, 

You  may  now  take  the  lighter,  my  son." 

"You,  henceforth,  may  pail  the  cow. 
You  may  chop  and  carry  the  wood, 

You  may  shovel  the  snow  when  drifting. 
For  you  are  noble  and  good." 

You  may  build  the  fires  and  cook. 

And  when  the  house  is  warm, 
You  may  call  your  sister  dear; 

She  the  smoking  will  perform. 

"I  wish  you  to  greet  her  with  a  smile. 
For  you  will  have  the  easier  load ; 

And,  when  she  comes  in  from  a  drunken  spree, 
Welcome  her  to  this  abode." 


22  Inspirational  Poems 

"For  the  tables  are  turned,  and  your  father 

Will  have  it  as  He  has  planned ; 
And  equally  will  you  share  in  all ; 
This  is  His  ultimate  command." 
October  11th,  1911. 


CAPITAL  AND  LABOR 

Now  the  lesson  to  be  given  is  for  all  to  con ; 

The  wealthy  are  God's  children  as  you'll  own, 
But,  the  favored  of  His  family,  an  entirely 
different  class, 
The  ones  who  know  it  not,  as  will  be  plainly 
shown. 

Let  us  take  the  man  of  millions;  the  envied  of 
today: 
He  must  cater  to  opinion,  to  fashion;  and  at 
night. 
However  tired,  cannot  in  peace  retire  to  rest; 
There  are  iDurdens  heavy,  pressing  that  are 
anything  but  bright. 

Missives  piled  upon  him,  which  come  from  far 
and  near. 
Asking  alms  and  begging  for  greater  sum  or 
less; 
And  all  the  while  he's  wondering  of  investments 
and  whatnot. 
Until  his  brain  is  racking  in  a  common,  worldly 
mess. 

Now,  we  turn  unto  the  other;    the  poor,  the 
favored  one. 
He  who  guards  his  humble  dwelling,  fighting 
wolves  away 
(From  those  he  loves)  with  his  strong  tho'  single 
arm. 
While  he's  learning  greatest  lessons,  every  hour 
and  every  day. 


Inspirational  Poems  23 

The  laborer  when  the  day  is  done,  with  weary 
step  and  slow, 
Plods  homeward;  and  his  evening  meal  the' 
meager  set, 
Has,  by  sweat  of  brow,  been  honestly  and  richly 
earned. 
And  provides  a  strength  the  wealthy  may  not 
get. 

His  weary  head  is  pillowed,  oftimes  on  coarsest 
straw; 
But,  hovering  near  him  in  his  dreamless  sleep, 
Are  those  who  visions  bring  of  happiness  and 
peace. 
And  of  the  riches  rare,  that  he  and  those  he 
loves  shall  reap. 

He,  in  his  extremity  draws  nearer  to  the  fountain 
of  all  good, 
Than  any  whose  material  need  is  readily  and 
easily  supplied; 
And   thus,   there   comes   the   unseen   aid    and 
blessings  to  him. 
Which  unto  the  other,  in  a  sense,  have  been 
denied. 

When  the  change  occurs  that  cometh  to  one  and 
all  alike. 
How  finds  it,  the  wealthy  man  and  he  of  lesser 
means? 
As  told  so  long  ago  "the  first  shall  be  the  last 
the  last  the  first," 
For  everything  is  shifted,  and  lo!  the  change 
of  scenes. 

The  man  who  has  labored  for  those  he  loved, 
laboring  long  and  well, 
Will  then  receive  his  just  reward,  the  lion's 
share ; 
While  the  wealthy  can  learn,  for  it's  never  too 
late; 
And  they'll  be  the  alms  askers  from  "over 
there." 
July  5th,  1918. 


24  Inspirational  Poems 


OUR  EASTERN  STAR* 

Long,  long  ago  as  you  count  time, 

Some  wise  men  from  afar, 
Looked  to  the  east  and  there  beheld 

A  sign,  the  Eastern  Star. 

They  followed  where  it  led  them. 

And  found  a  baby  boy — 
The  Christ  child  sent  to  scatter 

Words  of  wisdom,  truth  and  joy. 

To  Him  was  given  a  gift  divine. 
By  the  Father  whom  all  adore; 

Through  Him  it  was  to  bless  mankind. 
And  fit  them  for  better  shore. 

This  gift  was  in  more  forms  than  one: 
Seeing,  Hearing  and  Prophecy  true; 

He  was  a  medium  'twixt  earth  and  heaven, 
Sent  by  the  Father  a  work  to  do. 

This  work  He  did;  it  mattered  not 
What  station  they  filled,  if  they 

Were  needy  who  asked  for  assistance. 
He  never  said  one  of  them  nay. 

He  taught  them  the  many  truths 
Which  formed  His  mission  there; 

He  told  them  of  the  loving  One 
Whose  message  He  came  to  bear. 

He  extended  the  cup  of  cold  water. 
Gave  ever  the  word  of  cheer, 

Told  them  of  the  loving  Father 
Whom  none  had  need  to  fear. 

Told  them  that,  they  too,  were  children 
Of  that  Power,  the  same  as  He, 

And  as  such  they  were  His  brethren. 
Whom  He  came  on  Earth  to  free. 

♦Subject  chosen  by  Mrs.  J.  C.  Luther,  Memphis,  Mo. 


Inspirational  Poems  IS 

And  when  at  last  He  was  betrayed 

By  those  more  false  than  true, 
He  asked:  "Forgive  them,  Father, 

They  know  not  what  they  do." 

He  did  His  duty  well,  earth  friends; 

And  because  of  that  gift  divine, 
He  suffered  death  upon  the  cross; 

'Twas  your  loving  brother  and  mine. 

And  now,  as  in  those  days  of  old, 
When  the  Wise  Men  looked  afar. 

There  shines  a  bright,  a  radiant  light. 
And  we'll  follow  our  Eastern  Star. 

For,  as  it  once  led  those  Wise  Men 
To  the  Christ  child  God  had  sent, 

May  it  not  now  us  onward  lead 
To  the  truth  His  coming  meant? 

And,  feeling  thus,  we'll  follow  on. 
Led  by  that  light  which  shines  afar. 

That  we  of  earth  are  pleased  to  call, 
Our  guiding  light,  "Our  Eastern  Star." 


DELVE 

Oh  the  healing,  soothing  music, 
Of  whispering,  singing  pine; 

Telling  as  we  sit  and  listen. 
Of  a  something  most  Divine. 

As  we  view  the  fleecy  clouds. 
Sailing  in  the  azure  blue. 

Past  the  lofty  pine  and  cedar. 
What  a  feeling  thrills  us  through! 

What  a  world  of  interest  opens. 
As  we  gaze  on  every  side! 

£very  leaflet  has  a  story. 
Nothing  to  us  is  denied. 


26  Inspirational  Poems 

It  is  ours  to  delve  into  it, 
Every  question,  we  will  find. 

Has  an  answer;  we  can  grasp  it 
When  we  cultivate  the  mind. 

Every  language  that  is  spoken 

By  the  bird,  the  squirrel,  the  tree, 

Can  be  grasped  by  human  beings 
If  they  care  those  signs  to  see 

That  are  vouchsafed  to  each  species, 
By  the  Power  who  placed  them  here; 

Then  go  forward  with  your  learning, 
Everything  shall  be  made  clear. 
July  29th,  1918. 


A  LESSON 

A  flower  from  out  a  shady  dell. 

Had  scattered  perfume  on  the  air; 
Although  it  was  in  humble  quarters, 
Still  it  a  message  to  earth  did  bear. 

That  message  was  one  of  the  Father's  love, 
And  it  gave  to  all  who  came ; 
On  white  or  black,  on  rich  or  poor. 
Its  fragrance  was  shed  the  same. 

And  thus  it  fulfilled  its  mission. 

As  any  of  you  may  do; 
It  pleasure  gave  to  the  passer  by, 

It  proved  a  messenger  true. 

And  this  we  would  have  you  learn. 
That  it  matters  not  color  or  race. 

But  how  we  perform  our  mission; 
For  each  of  us  has  a  place. 

Your  duty  'tis  to  fill  that  place, 
In  the  very  best  way  that  you  can, 

And  prove  a  trusty  messenger. 
Both  to  your  God  and  man. 


Inspirational  Poems  27 


A  SERMON 

As  I  passed  (one  Sabbath  morn), 
A  church  in  splendor  dressed, 

I  heard  the  oft  repeated  words, 

"Come  unto  me,  I  will  give  thee  rest." 

Footsore  and  weary,  I'd  traveled  far; 

And,  turning,  I  approached  the  door, 
Thinking  to  find  a  haven  of  rest; 

For  heavy  was  the  load  that  I  bore. 

I  entered  the  splendid  edifice, 
And  sat  me  down  in  a  pew  to  rest; 

Surely  I  was  not  dreaming. 

That  promise  had  stood  the  test. 

I  had  not  sat  there  very  long. 
When  an  usher  stepped  up  to  me; 

"This  is  against  the  rules  you  know. 
These  pews,"  he  said,  "are  not  free." 

"Where  do  you  go  when  you're  heavy  laden, 
Where  is  the  rest  you  receive?" 

"This  is  a  maniac,  send  him  away, 
He  is  crazy,  I  surely  believe." 

"Not  crazy,"  said  I,  "but  expecting  to  see. 

The  words  of  Jesus  fulfilled; 
Which  I  heard  as  I  was  passing;" 

Then  all  the  house  was  stilled. 

Up  rose  a  gentleman  and  pardon  craved 
For  the  interruption  but,  if  he  could. 

He'd  "like  to  speak  to  the  stranger 
Who'd  profaned  the  temple  of  God." 

Permission  was  given  and,  making  his  way 
To  the  pew  where  I'd  sat  me  down, 

He  entered  and,  sitting  beside  me. 
He  cast  a  furtive  glance  'round. 


28  Inspirational  Poems 

"Now,  friend,  your  trouble  I  will  hear, 
And  then  we  will  later  decide; 

Speak  out  and  tell  it  all  to  me, 
I  promise  that  I'll  not  deride." 

My  story  I  told  in  the  fewest  words. 

He  arose  and  went  back  to  his  seat, 

No  time  for  commenting;  but  "later" 

He'd  see  me  "out  on  the  street." 

No  one  disturbed  me  and  I  sat  on. 
In  the  pew  which  was  not  free; 

I  heard  again  the  text  repeated, 

"Ye  who  are  heavy  laden,  come  unto  Me." 

The  sermon,  though  lengthy  was  ended, 
And  a  brother  was  asked  to  pray, 
He  arose  and  went  back  to  his  seat, 
'Twas  he  who'd  asked  pardon  that  day. 

"Our  Heavenly  Father  to  Thee  we  come, 

And  ask  for  blessings  to  all; 
May  they  flow  abundantly  for  the  poor. 

Will  you  answer  the  stranger's  call?" 

"This  man  is  weary,  despondent, 
His  children  are  crying  for  bread; 

And  the  work  that  he  has  asked  for 
Has  yet  been  denied,"  he  said. 

"Oh!  make  us  more  like  christians. 

And  into  our  hearts  this  day 
Put  the  gift  of  greater  charity. 

For  thiSy  we  humbly  pray." 

"And  here,  on  bended  knee,  I  crave, 
One  blessing  you  alone  can  give. 

Teach,  oh  teach  your  servants  here, 
The  better  way  to  live." 

"Open  our  hearts  more  fully  this  day, 
To  the  teachings  of  one  of  old. 

Who  did  for  all  the  best  he  could; 
He  counted  not  worth  by  gold." 


Inspirational  Poems  29 

"Teach  us  to  emulate  that  worth, 
And  practice  those  teachings  here; 

Then  followers  of  the  Christ  we'll  be 
And  need  have  naught  to  fear." 

"Oh!  Father  hear  our  prayer  this  day, 
.  We  must  ask  it  once  again; 
Give  us  the  gift  of  charity; 
We  your  humble  servants  are.  Amen." 

Up  rose  the  congregation  then, 
While  "Nearer  My  God  to  Thee," 

Was  poured  from  every  throat  and  heart, 
And  nearer.  He  seemed  to  me. 

The  benediction  then  was  said, 

And  I  passed  into  the  street; 
There  to  await  the  coming  of  him 

Who  had  said,  that  again  we'd  meet. 

I  had  not  very  long  to  wait  alone, 

For  many  in  passing  by, 
Had  spoken  kindly  words  to  me. 

And  I  felt  that  again  I'd  try. 

"I'm  here  at  last,  my  good  man; 

Will  you  walk  up  the  street  with  me? 
I  wish  you  to  meet  a  friend  of  mine. 

Who  may  give  you  a  chance,"  said  he. 

Well,  I  found  work  through  this  man. 

And  happy  I  am  to-day; 
For  more  than  one  lesson  I  learned 

The  morning  I  strolled  that  way. 

I  learned  that  when  needs  are  greatest, 

That  an  avenue  opens  to  view. 
Which  will  lead  to  better  conditions; 

It  has  helped  me  and  so  'twill  you. 

I  learned  that  in  most  hearts  is  kindness, 
But  some  one  must  take  the  lead; 

And,  following  after  their  leader. 
The  others  with  kindness  proceed. 


30  Inspirational  Poems 

I  learned  that  to  accept  the  little, 
No  matter  how  small  it  may  be, 

As  seeming  fulfillment  of  promise 
That  Christ  has  made  unto  thee, 

Brings  conditions  to  surround  you, 
Makes  you  able  to  receive; 

Thus  your  needs  supplied  can  be; 
This  I  hope  you  will  believe. 

And  this  I  know,  that  if  you'll  read 
With  understanding  of  His  love. 

And  practice  well  his  teachings. 
You'll  reap  reward  above. 

For  he  was  sent  by  the  Father, 
A  messenger  of  good  to  be; 

And  he  did  the  work  assigned  him, 
Which  now  rests  with  you  and  me. 

So,  let  us  take  our  place,  as  he. 
In  the  work  to  us  assigned. 

And  follow  ever  in  his  footsteps, 
Thus  bringing  truth  unto  mankind. 
November  1st,  1911. 


THE  PASSING 

As  one  awakening  from  a  dream, 
I  gazed  upon  the  splendors  there; 

And,  gazing,  felt  none  could  exceed 
This  land  beyond,  most  fair. 

I'd  heard  its  praises  sung  by  those. 
Who  as  dwellers  there  could  tell 

Much  of  this  land  I  speak  of; 
But  its  beauty  cast  a  spell. 

I  was  dazed ;  I  scarcely  knew 
What  had  happened  to  us  all ; 

For  the  last  that  I  remembered, 
Was  our  captains  dying  call. 


Inspirational  Poems  31 

Now  all  was  over  and  I  felt  the  same, 
As  though  I  was  still  on  earth; 

But  certainly  it  could  not  be, 
This  surely  was  higher  birth. 

I  looked  around,  and  seeing  many, 
Some  who'd  been  to  me  well  known; 

My  eyes  rested  upon  a  being 
Beautiful  as  the  stars  that  shone 

Above  us  on  that  fateful  night. 
When  none  on  earth  could  save 

The  Titanic  and  her  living  freight 
From  filling  a  watery  grave. 

It  was  Julia;  there  to  meet  me; 

She  who'd  talked  to  me  before; 
Reaching  out  her  hand  to  greet  me. 

On  that  bright  and  boundless  shore. 

She  had  helped  to  ease  my  passing. 

And  was  there  to  aid  us  all; 
She  had  heard  the  captain's  orders; 

"Man  the  life  boats."    At  the  call 

She  with  others  came  unto  us. 

Stayed  until  it  all  was  o'er; 
Bore  us  to  a  place  of  safety, 

Where  we'd  wake  on  farther  shore. 

All  is  well.  I  bear  this  message: 
That  all  live,  and  none  are  dead; 

The  one  who  bears  this  to  you. 
Is  the  spirit  of  William  Stead. 
August  14th,  1912. 


MEMORIAL  DAY 

These  graves  you  decorate  to-day 
Hold  naught  but  grossest  clay; 
But  the  fair  blossoms,  strewn  with  love, 
In  memory  of  those  called  above. 


32  Inspirational  Poems 

Will  bring  unto  all,  their  loved  ones  dear. 
Who  do  not  and  never  did  lie  here. 
They  come  with  love  unto  your  side 
Saying,  "Dear  ones,  we  have  not  died; 
And  the  blossoms  which  we  most  crave 
Can  never  be  strewn  upon  a  grave; 
Can  never  rest  upon  the  green  sod. 
For  they  soar  ever  upward  unto  God. 
These  are  the  deeds  of  kindness,  of  love. 
Scattered  on  earth  and  wafted  above. 
Not  one  day  in  each  year,  you  see. 
But  every  day  let  the  sowing  be. 
Decorate  the  soul  by  such  as  these. 
If  you  would  your  loved  ones  please. 
Grieve  not,  oh!  friends  above  a  grave; 
Study  the  law  of  Him  who  gave, 
For  'tis  the  same  that  taketh  away 
The  living  soul  from  form  of  clay. 
Care  you  most  for  the  one  set  free 
Or  the  grave,  which  now  you  see? 
Scatter  the  blossoms  rich  and  fair. 
For  they,  a  message  of  love  do  bear; 
But  forget  not  this,  your  loved  ones  dear. 
Would  have  it  last  throughout  the  year; 
And  instead  of  strewing  above  the  clay, 
Keep  J  by  loving  deeds,  Memorial  Day." 


"ASK  AND  YE  SHALL  RECEIVE'* 

In  humble  quarters  there  lived  an  old  man, 

One  who  had  almost  run  life's  span. 

His  scanty  hoard  would  scarce  supply 

His  urgent  needs,  though  hard  he'd  try 

To  add  unto  it  as  he  could, 

By  chopping  for  the  people,  wood. 

He  could  not  bear  to  look  ahead 

And  think  he'd  e'er  eat  county's  bread; 

For,  of  all  the  things  he  wished  to  shun 

This  of  being  a  pauper  was  one. 


Inspirational  Poems  33 

He  asked  in  earnest  that  he  might  be 

Furnished  the  work  which  would  keep  him  free. 

He  was  not  "choice  of  work,"  he  said, 

"If  it  was  honest.     He'd  earn  his  bread." 

One  day  a  snow  came  and  it  piled  high. 

He  felt  that  he  was  doomed  to  die; 

But  some  one  had  seen  his  urgent  need 

And  raised  for  him  a  friend,  indeed. 

A  hunter,  out  for  sport  that  day. 

In  the  swirling  snow  had  lost  his  way; 

He  drifted  to  the  old  man's  abode 

With  the  game  he'd  caught;  a  weighty  load. 

He  knocked  and  received  a  welcome  there, 

Was  warmed  and  fed  from  scanty  fare. 

When  leaving,  he  said,  "I  give  to  you 

Half  of  this  game  and  hope  it  will  do 

Until  I  come  this  way  again. 

When  you'll  have  cause  to  rejoice,"  and  then, 

Bidding  adieu,  he  stepped  forth  in  the  cold. 

Carrying  with  him  what  was  more  than  gold. 

For,  from  the  hands  of  the  one  who  took  him  in, 

He  had  received  his  life  again. 

For,  had  it  not  been  for  the  hut  he'd  spied. 

He  surely  with  the  cold  would  have  died; 

And  had  it  not  been  for  him  who  was  lost, 

Another  life  would  have  been  the  cost. 

A  day  had  passed,  and  a  sound  was  heard 

In  the  distance;  was  it  a  bird? 

Ah  no!  as  the  sound  became  more  clear. 

On  the  frosty  air,  bells  he  could  hear; 

And,  drawing  up  to  his  hut  once  more. 

There  was  the  stranger  who  had  come  before. 

"Here,  my  friend,  is  a  debt  I  owe 

To  one  who  befriended  when  lost  in  the  snow." 

And  out  from  the  sleigh  he  brought  a  load. 

Again  and  again  to  that  humble  abode; 

There  was  food  and  clothing ;  all  one  could  name, 

And  from  an  agent  of  God  it  came;  then  last. 

But  not  least,  of  the  things  that  were  given. 

Was  a  purse  of  gold.     Was  it  from  heaven? 

We  do  not  claim  that  from  heaven  these  fell. 


34  Inspirational  Poems 

But  the  stranger  was  prompted  to  doing  well; 
And  forever  was  gone  the  old  man's  woe, 
For  help  had  come  from  out  the  snow. 
November  11th,  1911. 

THE  COMING  OF  TRUTH 

When  the  time  for  which  you're  waiting, 

Shall  stand  without  your  door; 
When  the  friends,  from  whom  you've  parted, 

Come  and  talk  with  you  once  more; 
You  will  know  that  we  have  led  you 

To  the  heights  where  you  may  view 
The  promised  land,  awaiting  all 

Who  follow  with  the  good  and  true. 

Christ's  teachings  ne'er  can  harm  you; 

So,  follow  where  He  has  led; 
And  you  will  rise  to  loftier  heights. 

With  a  halo  'round  the  head. 
This  comes  with  spiritual  growth. 

It  is  truly  a  light  divine; 
And  is  proof  of  worth  within  you. 

If  that  halo  for  you  doth  shine. 

None  other  guide  you  need. 

Than  the  teacher  good  and  true. 
Who  came  to  earth  the  truth  to  bring; 

And  well  He  brought  it,  too. 
And  now  He  comes  again  to  earth 

Not  unrecognized  as  before. 
But  bearing  aloft  Truth's  banner, 

Which  is  waving  your  whole  world  o'er. 

Open  your  doors,  oh!  earth  friends, 

And  let  the  Christ-child  in; 
For,  with  His  entrance  to  your  homes, 

You'll  a  grander  life  begin. 
This  will  bring  all  things  unto  you. 

Everything  for  which  you  crave. 
And  will  rob  of  all  their  terror 

The  death  angel  and  the  grave. 


Inspirational  Poems  35 


THE  GOOD  SHIP  PROGRESSION 

ACROSTIC. 

Theodore  Roosevelt,  fearless  and  bold, 

Hiram  Johnson,  a  wealth  untold; 

Either  ready  for  place  assigned. 

Or  to  sink  in  oblivion  from  public  mind; 

Doing  their  duty  as  they  see  it  to  be, 

On  they  struggle  to  set  men  free. 

Raised  up  have  they  been  in  this  time  of  need, 

Ever  their  brethren's  cause  to  plead. 

Reach  forth  your  hand  and  kindly  clasp 
One  extended;  you'll  feel  the  grasp; 
One  touch  sufficient  to  show  the  friend 
Sent  to  aid  you  to  an  end; 
Ever  fearless,  bold  and  ready, 
Viewing  all  with  brain  that's  steady; 
Extending  hand  unto  you  now, 
Looks  forward  to  the  good  ship's  prow; 
The  name  emblazoned  there  he  sees 

And  waves  his  hat,  for  it  doth  please, 
"Now  in  this  ship  launched  forth,  I  sail; 
Doubt  not  its  strength,  it  cannot  fail." 

Here!  clasp  this  other,  pledged  to  try, 
In  his  strong  manhood  he'll  do  or  die. 
Right  must  conquer,  when  two  such  friends 
As  these,  to  the  cause  their  effort  bends. 
Mark  them  well;  no  fear  is  there; 

Joining  hands,  they  form  a  pair; 
One  well  matched  in  every  way. 
Having  the  vim  to  win  the  day. 
Now  look  upon  them,  sent  to  bless. 
Seek  out  the  wrongs  and  bring  redress. 
Over  the  waves  will  the  good  ship  sail. 
Naught  can  make  this  vessel  quail. 
1912. 


36  Inspirational  Poems 


PRACTICE  AND  PREACHING 

Work  on,  work  ever,  we  are  near; 

There  is  much  the  heart  to  cheer; 

Make  every  one  with  whom  you  meet 

Feel  that  to  know  you  is  a  treat ; 

Live  your  teachings  every  day, 

Thus  illustrate  the  better  way; 

For  you  must  know  that  to  proclaim 

And  never  practice,  becomes  tame. 

And,  if  your  hearers  you  would  impress, 

Practice  always,  though  you  preach  the  less. 

Both  were  better,  all  will  agree. 

But  if  one  is  missing,  let  it  preaching  be; 

For  even  a  look  at  your  daily  life. 

Should  be  sufficient  to  quiet  strife 

And  make  each  wish  to  be  like  you. 

An  example  of  what  is  good  and  true. 

We  each  have  one  soul's  worth  at  stake; 

We  each  have  our  own  future  to  make; 

Thus  it  stands  us  in  hand  to  do  our  best, 

Then,  and  then  only,  let  the  matter  rest. 

This  is  important,  as  time  will  show. 

When  from  the  body  you're  called  to  go; 

And  if  each  will  follow  this  rule  that  is  given, 

Twill  aid  you  on  earth  and  fit  you  for  heaven. 

But  some  there  are,  as  well  we  know. 

Too  weak  to  exert  themselves  to  throw 

Aside  the  tempter;  and  they're  as  a  boat 

Adrift  at  sea,  and  can  only  float; 

Unless  we  reach  forth  a  hand  to  save 

Such  a  one  from  a  watery  grave; 

Then  our  duty  it  is  to  extend  the  hand. 

Brave  the  raging  waters  and  help  them  land. 

We  hope  you  grasp  the  meaning 

Of  this  lesson,  rudely  given; 

Practice  and  preaching,  both  are  good, 

But  'tis  practice  that  takes  you  to  heaven. 


Inspirational  Poems  37 


UNCHAINED  LICENSE 

Many  a  home  in  this  broad  land 
Has  felt  the  rum  fiend's  power; 

Many  a  hope  been  blasted 
In  one  short,  little  hour. 

And  why  has  sorrow  entered 
Homes  which  were  fair  to  see? 

We  ask  you  this  in  earnest ; 
Take  the  babe  upon  the  knee, 

And,  for  every  ill  it  suffers, 

The  remedy  you  prescribe 
Is  one  of  a  deadly  poison ; 

Better  the  child  had  died. 

An  appetite  thus  created. 

Enslaves  one  for  all  time. 
And  e'en  is  carried  with  it, 

To  this  life's  sunny  clime. 

To  eradicate  this  evil  great. 
The  root  must  be  laid  bare; 

Would  you  loose  a  tiger  in  your  home 
Or  strike  him  in  his  lair? 

Would  you  caress  and  pet  him, 

Or  try  to  keep  away 
From  his  clutches,  which  are  deadly, 

When  you  know  he'll  claim  his  prey? 

No,  no,  indeed;  'twere  folly  thus 
To  turn  the  demon  free; 
What  can  we  gain  by  loosing 
Its  chains,  for  you  and  me? 

We  can  see  the  evil  done; 

It  stalks  abroad  by  day, 
It  lurks  in  every  corner. 

Watching  for  its  prey. 


38  Inspirational  Poems 

Unchained  license!    God  forbid; 

Let  us  rise  above  its  power 
And  weld  its  chains  the  tighter, 

Beginning  with  this  hour. 

Let  us  teach  our  lisping  babes, 

The  viper  e'er  to  shun, 
Knowing  that,  in  infants'  hands. 

Lies  the  great  work  to  be  done. 

And,  while  we  teach  the  children, 
Keep  our  heels  upon  the  throat 

Of  the  deadly  menace  offered; 
This,  our  message,  warning  note. 

Chained  it  has  wrought  us  evil; 

Unchained,  it  bringeth  more; 
Its  effects  are  felt  for  centuries, 

E'en  on  the  "golden  shore." 

So,  let  us  strike,  in  earnest. 
At  the  root,  the  branch,  the  tree; 

That  the  slaves  who  are  in  bondage 
Forever  may  be  free. 
Subject  chosen  by  B.  Uline,  Nappanee,  Ind. 


A  LESSON 

When  along  the  street  you're  passing, 
Note  the  people  whom  you  meet; 

Some  whose  faces  speak  of  sorrow. 
Some  who  show  that  life  is  sweet. 

Some  who  dress  in  height  of  fashion, 
Some  in  rags  and  dirt  you'll  see; 

Still  they  all  are  human  beings, 
Of  one  family,  you'll  agree. 

Then  let  us  cheer  the  heart  of  sorrow, 
Let  us  lift  our  brother's  load; 

As  he  ever  trudges  by  us 

In  the  journey  o'er  life's  road. 


Inspirational  Poems  39 

A  word,  a  smile,  a  kindly  glance, 

Hath  power  to  help  another; 
For  all  the  world's  akin,  you  know. 

We're  sister  or  we're  brother. 

So,  give  forth  good  to  all  the  world. 
And  you'll  find  this  saying  true; 

"Give  to  the  world  the  best  you  have 
And  the  best  will  come  back  to  you." 

We  each  need  help  in  this  old  world. 
And  the  ones  who  wear  fashion's  best. 

May  need  it  more  than  the  beggar  in  rags. 
When  they're  put  to  the  crucial  test. 

So,  let  your  light  shine  and  kindle 
That  fire  which  shall  warm  a  heart; 

And  teach  them  that,  of  the  Father^ 
We  are  each  and  all  a  part. 

Then  let  us  live  in  accord  with  good. 
That  spark  divine,  within  each  one, 

Which  shall  bring  in  all  upliftment. 
Now  and  when  the  earth  life's  done. 

We  are  atoms;  this  is  true,  indeed; 

But  drops  in  the  ocean  of  life; 
But  many  atoms,  working  together. 

Can  overthrow  discord  and  strife. 

And  many  drops  drawn  from  the  ocean, 
Can  make  the  great  sea  go  dry; 

Then,  can  you  not  see  the  good  we  may  do, 
If  you  and  I,  brothers,  just  try? 


A  LESSON 

When  along  life's  pathway  you're  passing, 

And  trials  assail  by  the  score; 
Just  cast  your  eyes  toward  the  haven; 

There  is  peace  when  the  journey  is  o'er. 


40  Inspirational  Poems 

What  though  the  brambles  are  loaded 
With  thorns  for  your  weary  feet; 

The  fruit  hangs  there  for  the  plucking, 
And  surely  it  is  sweet. 

There  never  were  placed  the  thorns, 

To  prod  us  day  after  day, 
Without  some  recompense  was  added 

To  cheer  us  on  our  way. 

And  even  though  the  thorns  are  sharp, 

Causing  us  pain  untold. 
We  still  may  find  some  wayside  flower, 

With  a  heart  of  purest  gold. 

No  trial  meted,  though  most  severe. 
But  what  may  prove  of  worth ; 

It  is  the  round  by  which  we  climb 
Toward  heaven  from  this  earth. 

Were  life  all  smiles,  all  roses  fair. 

We  would  not  care  to  try 
For  a  better  place  awaiting  us, 

A  happy  home  on  high. 

Were  there  no  trials  to  be  m.et 

In  this  mortal  life  of  ours; 
If  no  thorns  grew  side  by  side 

With  the  fairest,  sweetest  flowers. 

Then  half  the  joy  which  awaits  us. 
At  the  close  of  this  life's  short  day, 

Would  "fold  its  tent,  like  an  Arab, 
And  silently  steal  away." 

Throughout  our  lives  is  scattered 
Much  of  bliss,  as  well  as  woe; 

The  latter  will  aid  us  always 

To  ascend  the  heights,  you  know. 

A  sort  of  spur  to  urge  us  on 

Where  better  things  await; 
The  friends  we've  loved  and  longed  for,, 

Are  just  inside  of  Heaven's  gate. 


Inspirational  Poems  41 

What  is  Heaven?  a  condition 

Which  each  mortal  may  attain, 
If  he'll  profit  by  the  lessons 

Given  through  the  teacher,  Pain. 


THE  SEQUOIAS 

(REDWOODS) 

Guardians  of  the  national  forests, 

Sentinels  of  old  are  they; 
Could  they  tell  their  tale  of  interest. 

Spell-bound  you  would  be  today. 

Redmen  roamed  these  forests  o'er, 
Gaining  spoils  from  earth  and  air; 

And  these  silent  trees  bore  witness. 
To  those  trophies,  rich  and  rare. 

The  bear,  the  deer  and  buffalo. 
Were  hunted,  speared  and  died. 

While  these  monarchs  of  the  forest 
Guarded  that  which  is  our  pride. 

Tho  the  red  man's  blood  was  savage, 
Still  he  held  in  wholesome  awe 

The  giants  towering  o'er  him; 
Nor  molested  what  he  saw. 

Then  later  on  there  came  a  race. 
To  tread  this  Western  shore. 

Who,  for  vandalism  noted, 

Overreached  them  more  and  more. 

Laying  low  the  grand  old  monarchs, 
Shooting  deer  and  buffalo, 

Until  now,  few  of  the  species 
Are  left  here  their  kind  to  show. 


42  Inspirational  Poems 

Then  the  nation,  which  was  founded, 
Many  long,  long  years  ago ; 

Took  the  steps  in  which  protection 
Should  be  given  from  the  foe. 

So,  today  the  one's  remaining, 
(Stalwart  giants  of  the  Past), 

Awe  inspiring,  grand  and  wondrous, 
Of  Sequoias,  are  the  last. 

Representing  growth  of  ages. 
Where  strange  people  lived  and  died, 

Giving  way  to  other  peoples; 

Still  they  stand  there  side  by  side. 

Relic  of  the  by-gone  ages. 

Who  could  each  a  tale  unfold ; 
Were  we  capable  of  grasping; 

Their  great  language  as  'twas  told. 
July  6th,  1918. 
General  Grant  National  Park,  California. 


CALIFORNIA 

Grand  old  state  of  California! 

Looking  east  or  looking  west. 
We  have  yet  to  find  a  country 

That,  with  you,  can  stand  the  test. 

We  have  seen  the  grand  Pacific, 
Where  it  laps  your  Western  shore, 

Making  all  of  coast  line  rugged, 
As  it  washes  more  and  more. 

We  have  seen  the  glorious  Southland, 
Have  enjoyed  the  scented  breeze. 

Through  the  open  windows  wafted. 
From  the  groves  of  orange  trees. 


Inspirational  Poems  43 

We  have  gazed  in  admiration 

At  the  grand  magnolia  fair, 
At  the  golden  fruit  of  orange, 

And  the  lemon,  blooming  there. 

We  have  visited  your  missions; 

(Standing,  as  the  years  pass  on), 
Monuments  to  grand  old  padres. 

Speaking  sacrifice  and  song. 

Telling,  also,  of  the  Indians; 

(Then  a  savage,  uncouth  class), 
Who  were  taught  at  these  old  missions; 

All  now  memories  of  the  past. 

We  have  seen  in  inland  valleys, 

Waving  fields  of  golden  grain; 
And,  again,  the  green  alfalfa. 

And  the  fig  tree  shaded  lane. 

Then  again  the  northern  gold  fields. 
Where  was  mined  the  shining  ore; 

Oh!  we  know  you,  California, 
And  we  love  you  more  and  more. 

But  your  mountains  are  our  hobby; 

Your  Sierras,  grand  and  tall, 
Are,  to  us,  an  inspiration 

From  the  Father  of  us  all. 

From  the  highest  snow  capped  peaks, 

To  your  ever  rugged  shore, 
We  pledge  anew  our  loyalty, 

For  we  love  you  more  and  more. 

Home  of  fruits,  of  flowers,  of  birds. 

Of  the  redwood  and  the  pine, 
We  admire  you  California, 

We  are  kneeling  at  your  shrine. 

July  18th,  1918. 


44  Inspirational  Poems 


THE  LAND  I  LOVE  BEST 

You  may  prate  of  California, 

And  of  the  ^'Golden  West," 
But  let  me  tell  you  of  a  country, 

That  to  me  still  seems  the  best. 

It  is  where  the  Mississippi 

Winds  its  glorious  length  along; 

Where  you  find  the  tints  of  Autumn, 
That  are  heralded  in  song. 

Through  the  valley  which  is  fertile. 

Lazily  it  wends  its  way; 
And  m  its  depths  are  oft  reflected 

Visions  of  a  cloudless  day. 

Where  the  leafy  branches  tinted 

By  a  Master  Artist's  hand, 
Can  be  seen  in  great  profusion. 

All  up  and  down  our  land. 

Showing  that  Jack  Frost  has  settled. 
And  his  works  you're  free  to  view. 

As  an  artist,  he  has  no  equal. 
In  any  land  we've  traveled  thru. 

Once  a  year  he  calls  upon  us. 

Opens  up  his  studio  grand. 
For  inspection  and  approval; 

For  his  work  he  knows  will  stand. 

It  is  then  that  we  may  garner 

Fruit,  grain  and  nuts  at  our  sweet  will; 
Then  it  is  we  make  the  cider. 

And  the  bins  with  apples  fill. 

Then  he  leaves  us  and  old  Winter, 
With  his  white  and  hoary  head, 

Pays  us  one  of  his  great  visits; 
Paints  our  cheeks  and  noses  red. 


Inspirational  Poems  45 

And  gives  a  snow  white  covering 
To  the  landscape  once  so  bright; 

And  leaves  the  winding  river, 
A  grand  and  glorious  sight. 

Boys  and  girls,  all  dressed  for  skating, 

Have  assembled  for  some  fun. 
And  the  sport  begins  in  earnest, 

Lasting  till  the  day  is  done. 

Then  we  gather  round  the  fireside. 

Each  some  story  has  to  tell; 
And  the  pop-corn,  nuts  and  apples. 

Help  to  pass  the  time  as  well. 

Oh!  those  lengthy  Winter  evenings. 

When  together  we  have  met, 
Father,  mother,  sister,  brother. 

Are  the  best  of  any  yet. 

Beautiful  the  trees  in  winter. 

While  he  holds  his  icy  thrall, 
Covering  the  naked  branches 

With  the  flakes,  so  white  and  small. 

Then,  old  Winter  has  to  leave  us; 

And  the  spring  time's  ushered  in. 
With  its  leaves  and  apple  blossoms. 

And  the  wild  flowers  once  again. 

Mother  Nature  does  her  best  now. 

Everything  is  spick  and  span; 
The  boats  sail  down  the  river, 

For  the  ice  is  gone  again. 

Now  the  Summer  comes  upon  us; 

But  a  shower  can  oft  remove 
The  discomfort  one  is  feeling. 

Or,  at  least,  discomfort  soothe. 

Then  we  hie  us  to  the  marshes. 

Where  the  whortleberries  grow; 
Hanging  thick  upon  the  bushes. 

With  the  fronded  ferns  below. 


46  Inspirational  Poems 

And  still  the  boats  are  sailing 

Adown  the  river  grand ; 
The  dear  old  Mississippi, 

That  travels  through  our  land. 

Flowers  and  birds  there  are  to  greet  us, 
In  this  free  land  of  the  East; 

And  the  ever  changing  seasons 
Are,  to  us,  continual  feast. 

And  now  again  we're  waiting 
For  our  Autumn  Artist  friend; 

There's  no  monotony  in  waiting, 
For  there's  changing  without  end. 

And  we've  no  need  to  travel, 

For  the  change  will  come  in  time. 

For  there  is  always  something, 
In  this  grand  and  glorious  clime. 

We  do  not  ask  the  question, 
Is  it  Winter,  Summer,  Spring? 

Each  one  proclaims  his  coming 
While  saying  not  a  thing. 

And  so,  we're  proud  and  justly  so, 

Of  our  beauties  of  the  East; 
For  our  dear  "Father  of  waters" 
Alone  is  as  great  as  a  feast. 
September  7th,  1918. 


THE  EASTLAND 

I  have  visited  the  Eastland, 

Seen  the  wildflowers  in  the  wood; 

Picked  the  wintergreens  red  berries. 
And  childlike  pronounced  them  good. 

I  have  seen  old  Mother  Nature 
Donning  her  fresh  gown  of  green; 

And,  for  beauty  and  for  freshness. 
Handsomer  garb  was  never  seen. 


Inspirational  Poems  47 

I  have  seen  the  fruit  trees  covered 
With  the  blossoms  pink  and  white, 

And  the  dandelion  yellow 
In  the  grass;  a  pretty  sight. 

Then  I'd  get  my  book  and  saunter 

To  my  own  loved  apple  tree, 
There  to  read  beneath  its  branches, 

While  the  petals  showered  on  me. 

This  is  Springtime  in  the  Eastland; 

But  when  Summertime  comes  on, 
I  have  sweltered  without  cover 

From  the  darkness  to  the  dawn. 

I  have  visited  the  marshes 

Where  the  whortleberries  grow. 
Where  the  fronded  ferns  about  them 

Their  beauteous  splendor  show. 

And  have  sauntered  to  the  garden 
With  trusty  spade  and  hoe  again, 

Until  all  the  weeds  and  "pursley" 
By  those  helpful  friends  were  slain. 

I  have  gathered,  in  the  Autumn, 

Everything  from  squash  to  beet; 
And,  believe  me,  there  is  plenty. 

But  'tis  anything  but  sweet. 

Tho,  when  the  Autumn  lingers 

Until  your  harvesting  is  done. 
You  may  steal  a  little  respite 

And  get  out  and  have  some  fun. 

Then  I  hie  me  to  the  woodland, 
Where  the  scene  is  grand,  indeed; 

Reds  and  yellows,  greens  and  browns, 
I  enjoy,  the  while  I  read. 

And,  believe  me,  it  is  splendid. 
Nothing  like  the  Fall  and  Spring 

In  the  Eastland,  I  can  tell  you; 
Though  your  praises  you  may  sing. 


48  Inspirational  Poems 

I  have  donned  my  skates  in  Winter, 
And  to  the  winding  river  sped, 

That  enjoyment  is  not  lasting, 
Like  the  tints  of  green  and  red. 

I  have  visited  the  clothesline 

With  the  basket  filled  with  clothes; 

I  have  tried  in  vain  to  hang  them. 
Ere  my  feet  and  fingers  froze. 

Then,  again,  I've  shovelled  sidewalks, 
Porches,  paths;  and  carried  coal 

From  the  woodshed  for  the  burner; 
And  cold  fingers  were  the  toll. 

But  the  popcorn  and  the  apples, 
Were  the  one  bright,  sunny  spot; 

ThuSy  I  think  the  winter  cold 
Beats  the  good  old  summer,  hot. 

But  when  it  comes  to  the  Springtime 

Or  the  Fall  time  of  the  year, 
I  can  say,  "it  can't  be  beaten"; 
And  I  say  it  without  fear. 
September  10th,  1918. 


ANOTHER 

Yes,  dear,  are  the  native  homes  of  all; 

Wherever  they  are  found; 
But  give  me  a  home  up  higher, 

Where  no  tornadoes  or  earthquakes  abound 

Dearer  and  brighter,  by  far,  my  home, 
Though  you  travel  East  or  West; 

So  all  that  remains  for  us  to  do. 
Is  to  praise  what  each  loves  best. 

And  so,  I'll  sing  the  praises 

Of  this  land  of  the  living  soul, 
Where  flowers  grow  in  perfection; 

Where  the  sea  of  harmony  rolls. 


Inspirational  Poems  49 

And  is  washing,  ever  washing, 

Discord  from  the  earth  away, 
So  that  East  and  West  may  be  grander, 

At  a  not  far  distant  day. 

And  North  and  South  be  united. 
In  brotherhood  great  and  grand; 

Where  love  cements  together 
The  people  of  every  land. 
September  8th,  1918. 


THE  SOURCE 

Why  trouble  yourself  to  praise  it. 
The  country  of  your  choice? 

Just  be  happy  in  the  knowledge. 
And  rejoice,  rejoice,  rejoice. 

For  every  beauty  God  hath  given, 
Every  Autumn  tint  and  song, 

Every  snowflake  on  the  hedges, 
To  that  Power  must  e'er  belong. 

Every  blossom  of  the  wild  flower. 
And  all  others  ever  known. 

Every  fruit  from  grape  to  orange. 
Every  pebble,  shell  and  stone, — 

Every  mountain,  every  valley. 
Every  rock  and  every  stream, 

Every  bird  song  that  is  warbled. 
Has  its  source  in  the  Supreme. 

Every  sea  and  every  river. 
All  the  inland,  every  shore, 

Is  the  work  of  this  great  Sculptor; 
His  the  praises,  evermore. 

So  here's  to  the  beauties  abounding, 

Whether  in  East  or  in  West, 
And  here's  to  their  Author,  who's  given 
The  beauties  that  we  love  best. 
September  16th,  1918. 


50  Inspirational  Poems 


THANKSGIVING 

Years  agone  in  a  New  England  village, 
The  people  had  gathered  one  morn, 

To  give  praise  to  the  Lord,  who'd  given 
Such  a  harvest  of  Indian  corn. 

These  olden  people  of  the  Mayflower, 
Were  not  like  many  on  earth  to-day; 

They  were  simple  folk,  and  plainly  dressed, 
But  served  their  God  in  old  fashioned  way. 

They  were  glad  to  leave  Old  England, 
Where  tyranny  held  them  in  sway. 

And  find  a  home  in  a  newer  land, 
Where  they  had  the  right  to  pray. 

And  to  worship  God  as  they  saw  fit; 

And  so  today  we  see  them  here, 
Offering  thanks  to  the  Power  above, 

For  the  harvest  of  the  year. 

When  these  people  sailed  from  Old  England, 
They  broke  loose,  to  a  certain  extent. 

From  the  reign  of  religious  bondage; 
And  this  move  from  heaven  was  sent. 

They  suffered  trials,  to  be  sure. 
But  a  thankful  people  were  they. 

As  together  assembled  all  classes 
On  that  first  Thanksgiving  Day. 

With  grateful  hearts  they  offered  up 

Their  mead  of  praise  to  One 
Who  had  given  such  rich  returns  to  them. 

For  the  labor  they  had  done. 

From  that  day  on,  adown  the  years. 
Have  we  kept  Thanksgiving  Day; 

But  have  we  always  kept  it 
With  as  thankful  hearts  as  they? 


Inspirational  Poems  51 

Do  we  understand  the  true  meaning, 
Of  pouring  out  thanks,  full  and  free; 

Or  do  we  grasp  whate'er  we  can, 
And  expect  greater  harvests  to  see? 

Let  us  realize  our  manifold  blessings, 
And  with  hearts  filled  full  to  the  brim, 

Let  us  give  of  that  fullness  to  others 
In  loving  remembrance  of  Him. 

Who  helped  all,  the  poor  and  the  needy, 

None  came  to  Him  in  vain ; 
He  ever  asked  for  good  to  all. 

E'en  when  suffering  untold  pain. 

And  let  us  emulate  that  worth, 

Which  shone  from  that  soul  so  true, 
Who  asked,  for  those  who'd  wronged  Him, 
' '  Father  forgive,  they  know  not  what  they  do." 
Subject  chosen  by  M.  E.  McAntire,  Southwick,  Idaho. 


A  THANKSGIVING  STORY 

We  wish  to  give  this  morning, 

A  story  to  you  in  rhyme; 
And  in  giving  will  depict 

Some  happenings  at  the  present  time. 

In  all  of  the  largest  cities, 

To  which  your  land  lays  claim. 
Are  many  poor  and  needy  ones; 

Thousands  whom  we  can't  name. 

In  the  tenement  district  of  one, 
On  the  third  floor,  bare  and  cold. 

Was  a  back  room  with  one  window; 

Here  dwelt  a  child  and  two  women,  one  old, 


52  Inspirational  Poems 

The  little  child,  a  girl  of  three, 

With  curh  of  gold  and  eyes  of  blue, 

Was  asking  of  the  elder  woman, 
"Give  me  b'ed  gamma,  pease  do! 

Ise  hungry,  and  I  wants  my  mamma; 

See's  don  to  find  papa,  I  dess, 
An'  soon  'ey'll  tum  to  b'ing  us  b'ed, 

For  a  loves  ere  little  Bess." 

Thus  the  little  maiden  spoke. 

And  a  tear  dimmed  the  woman's  eye; 

For  well  she  knew  the  conditions; 
And  could  not  repress  a  sigh. 

The  father  was  killed  while  crossing 

A  crowded  downtown  street; 
And  the  mother,  by  use  of  the  needle, 

Was  striving  expenses  to  meet, 

She  had  gone  to  deliver  some  sewing. 
To  a  lady  who'd  land  and  gold; 

She  thought,  with  the  money  thus  coming, 
To  add  warmth  to  the  room  so  cold. 

And  also  to  buy  some  food  to  last 
Until  she  could  earn  more  pay ; 

And  so,  she  lifted  the  knocker 
On  this  raw  Thanksgiving  Day. 

A  servant  met  her  at  the  door, 
And  asked  whom  she  would  see. 

"I  have  a  package  for  the  lady 
Who  is  living  here,"  said  she. 

"Wait  here,"  he  said,  and  giving 

A  seat  in  the  hall  so  grand. 
He  sought  the  lady  of  the  house, 

And  awaited  her  command. 

"Go!  send  the  beggar  forth,"  she  said, 
"This  is  the  word  I  give  you; 

This  day  was  set  aside  for  prayer; 
Now  mark  my  words,  your  duty  do." 


Inspirational  Poems  53 

Back  he  went  to  the  hall,  where  sat 

The  woman  so  sad  and  forlorn, 
And  giving  her  the  message  rude, 

He  felt  his  heart  strings  torn. 

For  she  clasped  her  hands  together, 

And  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven, 
"Oh!  tell  me  what  to  do,"  she  cried, 

"Can  no  help  to  me  be  given?" 

There  was  a  silken  curtain  moved, 
And  forth  there  stepped  a  gnome, 

Who  spoke  in  childish  accents: 
"This  is  my  grandmas'  home, 

And,  lady  dear  I'll  help  you, 

If  you'll  please  not  to  cry; 
I'll  give  you  my  best  dolly. 

And  a  piece  of  cake  and  pie." 

"Oh!  bless  you  dear,  it  is  not  that, 

Will  help  me  bear  my  load ; 
But  if  you'd  come,  I'd  show  you. 

Where  poverty  has  its  abode." 

"Just  wait  a  minute;  papa '11  go 

And  take  me  to  your  home; 
Then  we  will  know  what  makes  you  cry. 

And  why  you're  here  alone. 

What  have  you  in  the  package ; 

Were  you  going  to  leave  it  here? 
"This  is  sewing  for  your  mamma; 

And  I  wanted  the  pay,  my  dear." 

"My  mamma's  gone,  away  up  high. 

Where  the  blessed  angels  stay. 
And  that's  my  grandma  that  lives  here; 

We  came  for  Thanksgiving  Day." 

"Now  I'll  go  and  find  my  papa, 

And  then  all  of  us  three. 
Will  get  into  our  big  new  car. 

And  your  home,  we'll  go  and  see." 


54  Inspirational  Poems 

"Now,  we're  ready;  this  is  papa, 

And  if  you'll  show  the  way, 
You'll  be  there  in  a  jiffy; 

Papa  does  the  things  I  say." 

Thus  the  maiden  rattled  on. 

And  the  father,  speaking  low, 
"Sunshine  tells  me  you've  a  package 

For  my  mother;  is  this  so?" 

"Oh  yes,  indeed!  my  baby's  starving, 

And  my  mother,  too,  so  dear; 
I  had  hoped  to  buy  some  bread 

And  some  fuel,  but  I  fear 

"I  have  failed;  and  now  I  only 

Can  rely  on  One  above; 
Here's  the  place,  sir,  up  three  flights, 

There  you'll  find  the  one's  I  love." 

"Open  the  door  and  walk  right  in; 

Mother,  dear,  this  is  a  son  you  know. 
Of  the  lady,  who  lives  at  the  'Heights,' 

Of  Mrs.  McPherson,  for  whom  I  sew." 

"You  see  now,  my  trouble,  little  one; 

I've  not  much  to  offer  my  guests. 
But  to  what  there  is,  you  are  welcome; 

Come  here  my  darling,  my  Bess." 

"Ise  so  hungry,  mamma,  I  wants  some  b'ed; 

I  fot  you  would  bring  papa  here.' 
"Where  is  the  papa?"  asked  the  gnome; 

"The  papa's  in  heaven,  my  dear." 

"I'm  very  glad  to  have  met  you. 

But  must  go  now,"  the  gentleman  said; 

"Good-bye  little  Bess,'  'and  taking  her  hand, 
"We'll  see  that  you  have  bread." 

As  they  closed  the  door  behind  them, 
Little  Bess  looked  up  and  smiled; 

"See,  mamma!  what  a  div  me," 
"Oh!  that  is  gold,  my  child. 


Inspirational  Poems  55 

Gold  to  warm  the  room  again! 

Gold,  with  which  to  buy  the  bread 
To  keep  little  Bess  from  starving; 

Oh!  were  they  not  good?"  she  said. 

"Mamma  will  hasten  right  away, 
And  bring  something  good  to  eat; 

Grandma  and  little  Bess  shall  have 
A  loaf  of  bread  and  meat." 

She  hurried  away,  and  in  half  an  hour, 

Again  there  stood  at  the  door. 
The  guest  of  the  early  morning. 

And  great  was  the  load  that  he  bore. 

"Now,  help  yourself,  my  good  woman, 

While  I  light  the  fire  for  you; 
And  we'll  warm  up  the  room  at  once; 

This  sort  of  condition  won't  do." 

Thus,  when  the  mother  returned, 

A  surprise  awaited  her  there; 
A  goodly  meal  was  spread  upon 

The  table  so  often  bare. 

The  guest  had  gone;  but  gratitude 

Was  in  two  hearts  to  stay; 
And  earnest  thanks  were  offered  up 

On  that  Thanksgiving  Day. 

But  what  of  the  lady  mother, 

Who  spent  the  time  in  prayer? 
Who'd  sent  the  message  rude  to  one. 

Who  had  burdens  enough  to  bear? 

Her  prayers  no  response  had  gained. 
For  they'd  gone  to  the  wrong  address; 

The  messengers  were  needed  elsewhere, 
They  had  gone  to  such  as  Bess. 

Now,  I  would  show  you  once  again. 
How  everything  works  out  for  good; 

The  father,  from  that  other  shore. 
Had  seen  all,  and  understood. 


56  Inspirational  Poems 

He  enlisted  all  whom  he  could, 

To  help  those  to  him  so  dear; 
And  when  a  heart  was  sorely  tried 

By  the  rudeness;  they  came  near. 

Twas  then  her  heart  had  opened 

To  ask  what  could  be  given; 
And  immediately  the  answer  came, 

In  God's  own  way  from  heaven. 

So,  learn  (when  your  needs  are  greatest 
And  you've  done  the  best  you  know), 

To  humble  yourself  in  earnest; 
To  your  loving  Father,  go. 

Tis  at  times  like  this,  He  can  hear  you. 
When  you're  humbled  to  the  dust; 

'Tis  only  at  times  like  this,  you  see, 
That  you,  your  loving  Father  trust. 

The  call  that  was  made  that  morning, 

Resulted  in  good  all  around; 
For,  the  woman  who  sent  the  rude  message, 

Through  it,  a  better  way  found. 

And  as  time  wore  on,  she  learned  many  things; 

She  learned  more  about  how  to  pray, 
And  a  change  of  heart  resulted. 

From  that  call  Thanksgiving  Day. 
October,  1911. 


A  TRUE  STORY 

We  come  this  Thanksgiving  Day  to  tell 
A  true  story  to  the  children  all; 

Of  how  "once  upon  a  time"  there  came 
A  fairy,  at  a  poor  child's  call. 

This  poor  little  child  had  no  home. 
He  knew  not  where  to  lay  his  head; 

He  was  a  little  orphan,  cast  upon 
The  merciless  world  to  earn  his  bread. 


Inspirational  Poems  57 

He  wanted  to  know,  and  earnestly  asked, 

Why  'twas  he  had  no  warm  bed, 
When  other  httle  boys,  no  better  than  he, 

Were  so  warmly  clothed  and  fed. 

He  felt  like  asking  these  questions, 
As  a  lady  reached  forth  her  hand 

Offering  him  a  new  silver  quarter, 

Saying,  "I'll  take  a  paper,  my  little  man." 

'Oh!  lady  you  must  be  a  fairy,  I  know, 

And  would  you  tell  me,  please. 
Where  other  little  children  find  their  homes. 

While  I  almost  starve  and  freeze?" 

"Where  are  your  father  and  mother, 
Little  one?"  the  kind  fairy  said; 

"I  never  had  none,  I  guess,  lady, 
If  I  did  they  must  now  be  dead." 

"Where  do  you  live,  my  dear  child?" 
"Oh!  I  have  no  home  but  a  box, 

And  a  good  kind  dog  sleeps  with  me. 
And  the  boys  throw  at  him  rocks." 

**But,  lady,  we  two  are  orphans,  I  guess; 

And  nobody  cares  if  we're  cold  or  warm; 
Whether  we're  sheltered  from  the  blast. 

Or  into  our  box  beats  the  storm." 

"But  I'm  thankful  I've  got  that  dog. 
For  I'd  freeze  if  it  wasn't  for  him. 

"Oh!  don't  cry  lady,"  said  the  child. 
As  her  eyes,  with  tears,  grew  dim. 

"Come  with  me;  what  is  your  name?" 
"Don't  know;  guess  it  must  be  Jim, 

For  everybody  calls  me  that; 
And  I  call  my  dog's  name,  Tim." 

"Well,  come  with  me;  where  is  your  dog?" 
"He  is  hunting  something  to  eat; 

You  know  in  the  daytime  we  go. 
Both  of  us,  out  on  the  street.'* 


58  Inspirational  Poems 

"Then,  at  night,  we  both  go  back  there, 

To  the  box  that  I  told  you  of. 
And  we're  both  so  glad  and  thankful, 

That  there's  someone  we  can  love." 

"Oh!  what  a  pitiful  story  you  tell  me; 

I  never  knew  the  existence  before 
Of  conditions  like  this,  I  assure  you; 

Come  with  me,  your  dark  days  are  o'er/*^ 

"But  lady,  I  can't  leave  Tim,  my  dog. 
For  he  stuck  right  by  me,  you  know, 

Else  I  would  have  frozen  to  death; 
And  so,  lady,  I  think  I  can't  go. 

"Tim  would  think  I'd  deserted  him. 
When  he  had  such  faith,  you  see, 

And  I  couldn't  ever  do  that,  you  know, 
For  it's  worse  for  him  than  for  me." 

"What  faithfulness!  what  a  lesson  given. 
Through  this  waif,  before  me  here? 

What  a  thankful  heart  there  dwelleth, 
'Mid  surroundings  dark  and  drear.'^ 

"One  thing  I  know  and  realize. 

That  a  lesson  I've  learned  this  day; 

And  something,  above  and  beyond  me. 
Sent  me  out  on  the  street  this  way." 

"We  will  find  your  dog,  my  good  boy. 
And  you  both  shall  have  a  home; 

One  from  which  you'll  neither  care 
As  wanderers  forth  to  roam." 

"I  was  sent  as  your  good  fairy, 

(To  attend  to  your  needs  this  day), 

By  the  Father  above  who  loveth  all ; 
And  with  me  forever  you'll  stay." 

That  boy  grew  to  manhood  beneath  the  roof 

Which  shelter  gave  that  day; 
And,  later,  we  see  him  working  to  pave, 

For  the  poor,  a  better  way. 


Inspirational  Poems  59 

A  fairy  the  lady  had  proved  to  be, 

For,  from  a  waif  untaught  and  alone, 

He  grew  to  be  a  power  for  good; 

And  we're  reaping  the  seed  that  he's  sown. 


A  CHRISTMAS  STORY 

"Come  with  me  this  Christmas  morn 


And  I'll  lead  you  far  away 
To  a  quarter  of  the  city. 

Where  grim  want  and  squalor  stay." 

"We  will  board  this  car  that's  coming, 
And  get  off  at  Houston  street, 

Then  a  block  or  two  will  take  us 
Poverty  and  rags  to  meet." 

"Here  we  are  at  the  crossing; 

Now,  but  a  few  steps  more, 
And  you  will  feel  such  a  heart  ache 

As  you  never  have  felt  before." 

"Up  this  flight  of  rickety  stairs. 
Follow  me  now,  for  it's  rather  dark; 

Step  on  to  this  landing;  now,  up  another, 
Here  we  are  at  the  door;  but  hark! 

"Oh!  Father  God,  do  hear  our  prayer," 
We  heard  in  accents  soft  and  low; 

"One  gift,  we  ask  that  you  will  grant. 
Let  mamma  live,  we  love  her  so.' 

"Brother  and  I  have  tried  so  hard 
To  sell  our  papers  so  we  could  buy 

The  things  she  needed  to  make  her  well; 
Please  God,  don't  let  her  die. 

"Brother  said  if  I  would  ask. 

You  would  help  us  all  you  could; 

For,  he  said,  you  gave  to  others. 
And  he  knew  that  you  were  good.* 


60  Inspirational  Poems 

"Old  Santa  comes  and  fills  the  stockings 
Of  the  rich  on  Christmas  Eve, 

But  we're  up  too  many  stairs, 
And  the  chimney's  full  of  leaves," 

"Mamma  says;  and  so,  of  course, 
He  couldn't  find  us  way  up  here; 

But  it  was  all  so  different 

Before  you  took  our  Papa  dear." 

"But,  Father  God,  we  ask  not  toys, 

My  dear  brother  and  I; 
We  ask  for  mamma,  and  we  know 

That  you  won't  let  her  die." 

"She's  starving  now  for  food,  because 
She  would  not  eat,  you  see. 

When  there  was  only  a  piece  of  bread 
To  divide  among  us  three" 

We  waited  to  hear  no  more,  just  then, 
But  left  with  tear-dimmed  eyes. 

And  hastened  to  a  downtown  store 
Where  we  could  purchase  supplies. 

Our  errand  had  taken  us  far; 

And  we'd  not  accomplished  its  end, 
For  I  had  expected  to  go  inside; 

And  show  poverty  to  my  friend. 

But  it  had  otherwise  been  ordained, 
And  we  were  to  answer  the  prayer 

That  we  had  heard,  while  waiting 
On  the  rickety  stair  case  there. 

A  physician  was  summoned  to  attend 
The  mother,  starving  and  sick; 

While  we  two  undertook  the  role 
Which  really  belonged  to  St.  Nick. 

'Tis  needless  to  say  that  an  auto  truck, 
Carried  us  back  to  the  stair; 

Twas  filled  to  o'erflowing  with  bundles; 
God's  answer  to  one  little  prayer. 


Inspirational  Poems  61 

When  all  was  left  at  the  door  for  them, 
We  rapped;  then  stepped  to  one  side; 

Then  what  we  saw  was  want,  indeed, 
And  we,  strong  men,  both  cried. 

The  door  was  opened  by  childish  hands, 
And,  beyond  in  the  room  we  saw, 

A  woman,  pale  and  thin  from  want, 
Lying  ill  on  a  bed  of  straw. 

The  children  themselves  were  in  rags. 

And  cold  and  raw  was  the  day. 
They  shivered  as  they  stood  there; 

No  fire  in  the  room  had  they. 

At  sight  of  the  things,  they  shouted; 

Then  they  thought  of  the  morning  prayer. 
And  kneeling  down  beside  them, 

They  thanked  God  then  and  there. 

Thanked  Him  for  the  answer  to  it. 
Which  had  come  so  soon  to  them; 

They  could  now  help  their  dear  mamma; 
Then  both  of  them  said,  "Amen." 

We  then  stepped  forth  into  the  light. 
And  before  an  hour  had  passed. 

All  had  been  made  comfortable; 
And  a  Christmas  cheer  was  cast 

Into  one  small  room  so  bare  and  cold, 

And  when  we  left  those  three. 
There  was  warmth  and  food  and  clothing, 

There  was  comfort;  thus  you  see 

"God  works  in  a  mysterious  way"; 

When  you  think  you've  reached  the  end, 
He  raises  up  some  benefactor. 

Who  serves  you  as  a  friend. 


62  Inspirational  Poems 


SEQUEL 

We  come  to  give  you  a  sequel, 
To  the  lesson  which  came  before; 

Showing  you  what  kind  of  prayer, 
Reaches  out  to  heavenly  shore. 

Also  showing  that  each  human  being 
Is  a  child  of  this  Higher  Power ; 

That  we  are  messengers  to  do  His  will, 
When  arrives  the  opportune  hour. 

Who  put  the  idea  into  our  minds. 
To  go  to  that  place  so  cold  and  bare? 

Why  did  we  go  at  that  certain  time, 
As  the  child  began  her  prayer? 

Friends  of  earth,  I'll  tell  you  why; 

A  little  child  with  faith  and  love. 
Had  reached  out  to  the  All  Father, 

And  asked  help  from  above. 

The  prayer  had  not  yet  been  given  voice, 
But  'twas  felt  by  a  messenger  there. 

And  impressed  on  two  earthly  agents 
To  visit  the  tenement  bare. 

Another  had  also  impressed  the  child. 
To  give  voice  at  once  to  the  prayer; 

And  this  was  when  we  were  standing. 
At  the  top  of  the  rickety  stair. 

Now  friends,  think  you  He  did  not  hear. 
Can  you  see  no  wisdom  there? 

When  two  elements  were  brought  together, 
In  order  that  one  should  bear 

The  necessities  of  life  into  a  home. 
Where  the  mother  lay  starving  and  ill. 

Oh  shame  upon  the  one  who  doubts. 
That  such  is  not  the  Father's  willl 


Inspirational  Poems  63 

But  all  do  not  let  the  messengers  in, 
When  they  come  from  the  Father  above; 

And  our  work  is  to  prepare  you, 
That  you  may  feel  His  love 

And  open  the  door  for  the  messenger, 
And  list  to  the  message  thus  sent. 

As  we  did  that  Christmas  morning, 
When  we  to  the  tenement  went. 

Now  I  would  say  to  all  who  ask 
For  help  from  that  Power  above. 

Come,  as  came  that  little  child, 
In  faith,  in  trust,  in  love. 


A  CHRISTMAS  STORY 

Wrapped  in  the  rags  of  poverty. 
And  exposed  to  the  bitter  cold, 

A  little  girl  was  asking  alms; 
A  child  not  ten  years  old. 

'Twas  Christmas  day,  supposed  to  be 
Anniversary  of  the  Nazarene's  birth ; 

A  day  when  joy  and  gladness 
Should  reign  o'er  all  the  earth. 

People  were  passing  to  and  fro, 
Some  in  apparel  costly  and  fine. 

But  no  one  noticed  the  little  girl 
Who  was  scarcely  more  than  nine. 

She  was  gazing  into  a  window,  laden 
With  everything  good  to  eat, 

And  wishing  for  one  more  penny; 

When  an  officer  paused  on  the  street. 

"What  business  have  you  to  be  begging? 

I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the  law." 
"Oh!  please  sir,  I  am  so  hungry, 

I  never  asked  for  the  goodies  I  saw." 


64  Inspirational  Poems 

"Never  mind,  you  street  Arab,  I'll  take  you. 
Where  you'll  for  once  have  a  feed; 

Your  rags  won't  save  you  this  time. 
You'll  now  to  police  court  proceed." 

"What  charge?"  was  asked  the  officer; 

"  'Tis  vagrancy,"  came  the  harsh  reply. 
"Ten  days,  then,  I  give  you,"  said  the  judge, 

"And  there's  no  further  use  to  cry." 

"I  didn't  do  anything,"  said  the  child, 
"But  looked  in  the  window  to  see 

The  goodies  when  I  was  so  hungry; 
A  man  gave  these  pennies  to  me." 

"And  my  mother  will  be  so  frightened, 

If  you  keep  me  shut  up  here." 
"What's  your  mother  to  us?"  said  the  judge; 

"She's  another  beggar,  I  fear." 

"Oh!  please  sir,  what  would  you  do, 

If  you  had  no  bread  to  eat, 
And  no  work  that  you  could  find. 

Wouldn't  you  beg  on  the  street?" 

"Isn't  it  better  to  ask  for  help. 

Than  to  take  what  to  you  don't  belong? 

In  asking  for  help  so  much  needed 
I  am  sure  that  I  did  nothing  wrong." 

"If  the  blessed  Christ  Jesus  could  hear, 
He'd  know  that  I  tell  you  true, 

When  I  say,  we  are  hungry  and  starving. 
For  bread  thrown  away  by  you." 

"My  mother  has  worked  all  she  could, 
Until  nothing  more  could  be  found, 

And  her  strength  gave  out  from  worry, 
And  she  sent  me  to  look  around." 

"She  thot,  on  this  day,  Christ's  birthday — 
That,  out  of  the  plenty  you  see. 

That  God  had  given  to  some  folks 
There  might  be  a  little  for  me." 


Inspirational  Poems  65 

"She  said  that  some  had  kind  hearts, 
And  glad  indeed  would  they  be, 

To  give  from  their  abundance. 
To  a  poor  little  child  like  me." 

"But  I  guess  she  was  mistaken. 

For  they've  all  forgot,  you  see, 
That  'as  ye  do  to  the  least  of  these 

Ye  do  it,'  Christ  said,  'to  me'." 

"And  I  know  that  from  His  home  above, 

He  can  see  all  our  actions  here; 
He  knows  what  it  means  to  be  starving 

And,  at  times  like  this,  he  comes  near. 

"And  I  know  He'll  send  help  unto  us. 
For  how  could  it  be  else  but  so? 

For  this  land  is  full  of  Christians, 
And  they  follow  Christ,  you  know." 

"And  when  he  sees  a  poor  little  child. 

All  cold  and  starving  like  me. 
He'll  raise  up  somebody  to  help  them; 

And  I  know  He  will;  you'll  see." 

A  gentleman,  hearing  the  child. 
Was  drawn  by  her  sobs  to  attend 

To  the  words  which  were  being  uttered; 
And  she,  thereby,  found  a  friend. 

"Men,"  he  said,  "I  stand  accused; 

My  accuser,  this  little  child; 
I  have  claimed  to  be  a  Christian, 

But,  I  own  that  I  stand  defiled." 

"I've  never  had  a  thought  before 
To  the  lesson  this  morning  given. 

From  the  lips  of  this  ragged  little  girl; 
And  I  take  it  as  straight  from  heaven." 

"Such  faith,  when  in  direct  need, 

I  never  have  seen  before; 
And,  in  all  the  churches  attended. 

It  never  has  entered  the  door  " 


66  Inspirational  Poems 

"What  shame  is  ours;  what  claims  we  make? 

Kneel  down,  my  friends  and  let  us  pray; 
For  the  lowly  one  of  Nazareth 

Through  this  child  has  spoken  to-day." 

"Now  I  will  constitute  myself 
A  committee  of  one,  so  to  speak, 

And  make  it  a  point  to  do  some  good; 
The  proud  shall  become  the  meek." 

"Now,  what  have  you  to  offer  me, 
In  a  way  both  substantial  and  good? 

I'hat  this  child  and  her  mother  may  live; 
They  must  have  clothing  and  food." 

"Don't  be  backward;  a  'tenth,'  you  know, 

Was  to  be  given  to  the  poor; 
And  I  start  the  ball  to  rolling; 

Money,  you  know,  is  the  only  cure." 

"Now,  my  child  will  you  come  with  me? 

And  we'll  see  what  we  can  do; 
I  will  ever  prove  a  friend  in  need, 

To  the  starving  poor;  I  promise  you." 

"You  have  this  day  awakened  here 
All  the  Christ  there  was  in  me; 

And  I'll  do  the  work  I  can. 
When  such  need  as  this  I  see." 

"Now,  my  child,  I'll  hear  your  story, 
For  you  are  not  what  you  seem, 

And  I'm  sure,  beneath  the  surface 
There  is  more  than  some  would  dream." 

"Ohl  sir,  there's  nothing  much  to  tell, 

Only  we  are  so  very  poor. 
And  mother  can't  find  any  work  to  do 

To  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door." 

"You  see,  I  am  a  drunkard's  child; 

And  my  mother  his  outcast  wife; 
So,  nobody  would  give  work  to  us; 

Rags  don't  help  much  in  the  strife." 


Inspirational  Poems  67 

"It's  hard  to  be  poor  and  hungry, 

And  have  no  home  nor  bed ; 
It  seems  funny  that  some  have  plenty, 

While  we  are  denied  even  bread." 

■'And  when  I  dare  to  ask  for  help. 

An  offirer  takes  me  away; 
Oh!  let  us  go  at  once  to  mother, 

I  have  no  more,  now,  to  say." 

''I  feel  so  sad,  I  don't  know  why, 

I  s'pose  things  might  be  worse; 
But  I  pity  the  child  and  mother 

On  whom  rests  a  drunkard's  curse." 

'You  don't  know  where  I'm  going,  do  you? 

It's  a  place  that  we  call  home; 
Then  you  will  understand  and  know. 

Why  the  drunkard's  child  doth  roam." 

"Now,  into  this  alley  we'll  turn. 

And  here,  through  this  door,  we'll  go. 

Into  the  third  stall,  to  your  right; 
The  bed's  in  the  manger,  you  know." 

"Oh!  mother,  I've  brought  help  to  you; 

We've  brought  you  wine  and  bread; 
Why  don't  you  speak  to  your  Annie? 

Oh!  sir,  she's  cold  and  dead." 

"Oh!  mother,  dear,  what  will  I  do?" 
The  beggar  child  thus  made  her  moan; 

"Oh!  take  your  Annie  home  with  you. 
Don't  leave  her  here  alone." 

A  flood  of  light  broke  o'er  them. 

And  a  vision  was  plainly  seen; 
The  mother,  in  rags  no  longer. 

But  in  garments  fit  for  a  queen. 

And  a  voice  from  out  the  silence 
Said,  "My  child,  I  have  not  died; 

I  your  guardian  angel  am. 
And  I'll  be  by  your  side." 


68  Inspirational  Poems 

"A  work  on  earth  awaits  you,  dear, 

Ere  you  can  come  to  me, 
And  this  stranger  was  brought  unto  you 

By  the  Power  above,  you  see." 

"Raised  up  at  a  time  when  needed  most, 
And  he,  as  a  friend,  will  prove  true; 

You'll  work  hand  in  hand  together, 
A  work  of  great  good  to  do." 

"Seek  out  the  poor  and  the  lowly, 
Extend  always  the  helping  hand, 

Lead  them  upward  to  the  light 
That  shines  from  the  Summerland." 

'This  has  all  been  brought  about 
That  you  both  may  help  receive 

And  spread  the  gospel  of  good  news. 
That  all  may  worth  achieve." 

"Go  into  the  slums,  the  police  courts. 
And  a  way  will  be  shown  to  you; 

For,  from  a  full  heart,  your  lips  will  speak. 
And  great  good  you  are  to  do." 

"Now,  friend,  to  you  I  trust  my  child, 
And  may  you  ne'er  from  duty  swerve; 

You  are  chosen  as  one  in  the  vineyard. 
For  the  teachings  of  Christ  you  observe." 

"Adieu  to  you  both;  and  remember, 

Angels  will  aid  you  to  bear 
The  curses  and  sneers  cast  upon  you, 

By  those  who  speak  out  unaware." 

The  vision  was  gone  and  a  silence. 

For  a  moment,  rested  there; 
The  beggar  child  and  the  stranger, 

Both  knelt  in  silent  prayer. 

On  the  dirt  floor  of  that  stable, 

With  no  human  eye  to  view; 
An  offering  great  ascended 

To  the  Father  who  is  true. 


Inspirational  Poems  69 

"And,"  said  the  stranger,  "as  I  deal 

With  this  child  left  to  my  care, 
So  may  you  ever  deal  with  me; 

This,  Father,  is  my  prayer." 

"Here,  in  the  presence  of  the  dead, 

I  consecrate  myself  to  Thee; 
And  from  this  day  shall  ever  strive 

A  power  for  good  to  be." 

"I  see  great  wisdom  in  this  law, 

Which  governs  all  mankind; 
I  know  full  well  that  I  was  sent 

This  little  child  to  find." 

This  law  is  ever  working,  friends. 

For  the  good  of  one  and  all; 
And,  jaith  will  bring  an  answer 
Though  the  lowliest  may  call. 
October  25th,  1911.  ' 


POEMS  PROPHETIC:    A  MESSAGE 

(To  M.) 

In  one  of  your  letters  of  late, 
You  say  he  has  "softened  much 

In  his  religious  opinions"; 

But  the  cause  you  assign  for  such 

Is  only  in  part  correct; 

For,  by  the  forces  and  through, 
This  has  been  made  possible; 

The  instrument  only  is  you. 

But,  however  the  case  may  be, 

'Tis  neither  here  nor  there; 
The  fact  of  its  accomplishment 

Is  the  thing  for  which  we  care. 


70  Inspirational  Poems 

And  knowing  this,  that  time 
Worketh  changes  day  by  day, 

Eradicating  ingrained  error 

That  you'd  think  was  there  to  stay, 

And  more;  that,  when  this  fermentation. 
Which  has  now  upset  the  land; 

Shall  have  ceased  its  effervescence. 
Truth  will  shed  its  light  so  grand. 

Not  only  will  it  be  shining 

On  a  very  ''favored  few," 
But  its  rays  will  light  the  masses; 

And  the  false  give  way  to  true. 

And  the  spreading  will  outrival 
All  that  e'er  before  has  been. 

The  millennium  advancing, 
Drives  before  it  greatest  sin. 

Thus  you  see  the  dawn's  approaching; 

Light  of  truth  shall  shine  afar; 
And  a  peace  shall  settle  o'er  you. 

Peace  that  does  away  with  war. 

And  so  we  work,  well  knowing 
That  naught  is  done  in  vain; 

That  good  is  often  ushered  in 
Through  much  of  strife  and  pain. 

It's  Truth,  in  one  grand  struggle. 

Shaking  thus  to  free 
Itself  from  inborn  error. 

That  has  caused  this  war  to  be. 

And  when — at  last  is  ended 

This  massacre  of  men. 
Then  peace  will  be  established 
And  war  be  at  an  end. 
June  Sth,  1917. 


Inspirational  Poems  71 


THE  LEGACY 

From  out  the  din  of  battle, 
The  shell  and  great  guns  roar, 

Shall  come  the  peace  we  fight  for; 
That  shall  reach  from  shore  to  shore. 

Get  ye  ready  for  the  coming, 
When  to  nations  of  the  earth, 

Cometh  Peace  with  mighty  pageant; 
Be  ye  ready  at  the  birth. 

For  the  heirs  they've  left  behind  them, 
(Those  who  fought  and  bled  and  died). 

Will  inherit  blessed  freedom. 

Though  they've  passed  to  "other  side." 

'Tis  the  legacy  they  leave  you. 
Dearly  bought  but  nobly  won; 

Precious  blood  was  offered  for  it. 
Heroes!   every  mother's  son. 

Whether  coming  back  in  triumph, 

To  a  little  time  remain 
On  this  earth  so  rudely  shaken. 

Or  are  numbered  with  the  slain. 

Both  are  heroes,  and  have  honored 
Every  home  from  whence  they  come; 

And  we'll  welcome  those  returning. 
With  a  gladsome  beat  of  drum. 

Let  us  make  them  feel  the  gladness. 
That  their  homeward  coming  brings; 

Let  them  for  this  once  be  treated 
Not  as  men,  but  more  like  kings. 

And  within  our  memory  cherish 
Those  who  have  but  gone  before; 

Leaving  Freedom,  blessed  Freedom, 
To  the  earth  for  evermore. 

March,  1918. 


72  Inspirational  Poems 


HOUSE  OF  HOHENZOLLERN 

"Watch  andwait,"let  this  be  your  watch-word; 

For  there  cometh  brightest  day, 
When  the  House  of  Hohenzollern 

Shall  have  passed  away. 

Then  freedom  will  be  granted, 

To  all  of  German  birth; 
And  Peace — ^white  dove,  will  settle 

O'er  all  mankind  on  earth. 


The  time  is  fast  approaching; 

And  those  who  have  died  to  win 
This  blessing  for  all  countries. 

Have  helped  to  usher  it  in. 

So  remember  the  homes  that  are  saddened, 
And  cheer  them  as  best  you  may; 

If  no  homes  gave  forth  their  loved  ones. 
Where  would  you  be  to-day? 

Prepare  yourselves  for  the  coming 
Of  this  grand  and  glorious  day; 

For  the  House  of  Hohenzollern, 
Is  fast  going  to  decay. 
March  18th,  1918. 


POEMS  PROPHETIC. 

The  war  dogs  in  all  their  fury. 

Are  let  loose  upon  the  foe; 
Who  are  puzzled,  are  retreating; 

They  know  not  where  to  go. 

"Crowd  them  closer!  crowd  them  closer  1" 
Who  is  this  that  gives  command 

To  our  valiant  boys  who  offer 
All  they  have  for  home  and  land? 


Inspirational  Poems  73 

See!  they  falter;  now  rush  onward, 
And  hard  press  the  foreign  foe; 

See  them!  hand  to  hand  they're  fighting, 
And  are  dealing  blow  for  blow. 

Now  it's  over;  God  have  mercy! 

See  the  ground  strewn  with  the  slain; 
German  dead,  who  still  were  human, 

But  have  poured  their  blood  in  vain. 

Victory?  yes,  o'erwhelming; 

In  the  face  of  fearful  odds; 
And  the  Kaiser's  empire's  fallen. 

And  no  more  is  linked  with  God's. 


n. 

Watch  the  papers!  watch  the  papers! 

Look  for  news  of  victory  grand; 
Great  and  awful  is  the  carnage, 

But  Foch  is  in  command. 

And,  striking  when  advantage 

By  his  quick  eye  is  seen; 
Gives  courage  to  his  army 

And  daunts  the  "Dutch  machine." 

When  this  great  battle's  over. 

And  the  ground  is  strewn  with  dead; 

The  Emperor,  once  so  mighty. 
Finds  nowhere  to  lay  his  head. 

Just  reward  all  will  agree; 

But  pitiful  indeed  his  plight; 
For,  ages  dark  will  pass  ere  he 

Can  see  the  faintest  ray  of  light. 

Brought  on  him,  not  by  God, ' 
But  by  his  greedy  self  alone; 

Who  thought  all  of  position, 
Of  wealth,  of  power,  of  throne. 


74  Inspirational  Poems 

The  welcome  news  will  reach  you; 

And  great  your  joy  will  be; 
Do  not  forget  the  homes  that  gave, 

That  you  could  now  be  free. 
April  12th,  1918. 


III. 

Happy,  happy,  Happy, 

All  the  world  shall  be 
When,  from  German  thralldom 

They  at  last  are  free. 

And  those  who  now  are  fighting. 
And  those  who,  fighting,  passed ; 

Shall  bequeath  that  blessed  freedom 
To  the  world,  and  it  shall  last. 

Sound  the  pibroch;  it's  approaching; 

Blessed  peace  for  evermore; 
Dearly  bought  but  richly  paid  for. 

From  sunny  France  and  Belgium's  shore. 

Far  from  home  and  country  dear, 
There's  many  a  one  passed  on; 

But  grieve  not  for  their  passing. 
To  a  better  land  they've  gone. 

And  if  you'll  but  rejoice  friends. 
Their  happiness  you'll  complete; 

One  mortal  life  they  had  to  give; 
And  this  we  will  repeat. 

Grieve  not;  for  glad  indeed  were  tliey, 

That  life  was  theirs  to  give 
On  the  altar  of  their  country. 

That  those  they  loved  might  live 

In  that  blessed  peace  they  paid  for, 
And  bestowed  upon  the  world. 

When  the  Prince  of  Greed  and  Terror 
From  his  wicked  throne  was  hurled. 
April  15th,  1918. 


Inspirational  Poems  75 


IV. 


Be  not  afraid  dear  heart; 

For  the  morrow  bringeth  joy; 
The  little  birds  are  carolling 

The  news  without  alloy. 

Look  up  and  wait,  for  coming 
From  the  side  of  allied  power, 

Is  greater  news  and  better 
Beginning  with  this  hour. 

They  fight  for  right  and  justice, 
The  Germans  fight  for  power. 

For  supremacy,  to  govern. 
And  'tis  our  darkest  hour. 

But  the  light  is  coming  fast; 

And  day  is  about  to  dawn ; 
For  we  "und  Gott'  are  fighting, 

For  the  right,  against  the  wrong. 
April  17th,  1918. 

V. 

Be  calm,  the  dawn's  approaching; 

This  is  no  idle  dream; 
You  soon  must  realize  the  truth; 

"Things  are  not  always  what  they  seem." 

For  you  must  know  the  seeming  strength 

Of  the  full  German  line. 
Is  sorely  tried  and  failing; 

They  would  now  a  treaty  sign. 

But  no!  their  brutal  acts 

Have  reached  the  limit  stage. 
And  they  are  made  to  still  endure, 

For  history's  written  page. 

Worn  out  and  cut  to  pieces; 

Where  is  their  army  now? 
A  hopeless  wreck;  succumbing. 

They  know  not  why  or  how. 


76  Inspirational  Poems 

Goaded  on  against  their  will, 

To  fight  for  greed  and  power, 
Their  back  is  broken  and  they  yield. 
Beginning  with  this  hour. 
April  20th,  1918. 


THE  HEALING  POWER  OF  NATURE 

Far  famed  the  grand  old  forest, 
As  the  one  whose  name  it  bears; 

Calling,  calling  to  the  weary. 
To  lay  aside  all  cares. 

And  come  and  rest,  where  Nature 

Her  blessed  boon  can  bring. 
Of  health  and  strength  and  calmness. 

In  all  and  everything. 

There  is  healing  in  the  wildwood. 

Near  the  cedar  and  the  pine; 
There  is  healing  in  the  songbird, 

Tis  a  tonic,  more  than  wine. 

The  soughing  of  the  pines  can  lull  you. 

To  a  quiet  few  can  know, 
For  you're  nearer  to  the  Father; 

These  are  gifts  he  would  bestow. 

And  so,  when  the  grand  old  forest 

Sends  forth  a  call  to  you. 
Obey  the  summons  and  answer; 

'Tis  the  least  that  you  can  do. 

For  the  renovation  and  needed  rest 

Will  be  given  in  hospital  here. 
Or,  rather,  in  God's  free  sunlight. 

Where  the  cedar  and  pine  are  near. 
July  4th,  1918.  General  Grant  National  Park,  Cal. 


Inspirational  Poems  77 

ON  THE  BATTLEFIEDS  OF  FRANCE 

Over  where  there's  a  work  to  be  done, 
Where  mingles  the  sword  and  the  lance, 

We  are  spending  our  time  in  the  main,  now; 
On  the  battlefields  of  France. 

Easing  the  passing  of  friend  or  foe. 
Giving  help  whene'er  there's  a  chance; 

Such  is  the  mission  'tis  ours  to  bestow 
On  the  battlefields  of  France. 

To  soothe  the  weary  and  give  strength, 
To  vanquish  errors,  sword  and  lance. 

That  through  this  turmoil  may  come  peace 
On  the  battlefields  of  France. 

This  is  what  keeps  us  away  at  times, 
'Tis  a  duty  and  helps  to  advance 

The  truth  and  the  right  which  soon  will  be  bom 
On  the  battlefields  of  France. 
May  27th,  1918. 


THE  GREAT  CROSS  OF  RED 

(From  a  vision  seen  by  Mrs.  Pack — of  red  and  white 
birds,  the  red  ones  forming  a  cross.) 

Peace,  the  white  dove,  is  soaring 

Around  the  great  cross  of  red. 
Over  the  fields  of  carnage. 

Where  lie  the  thousands  dead. 

That  Cross  of  Red!  how  many  now  grasp 

The  work  it  has  carried  on; 
How  many  know  of  the  kindness  shown 

To  those  who  have  passed  and  gone. 

But  the  great  red  cross  of  mercy  now 

Is  circled  by  doves  of  peace; 
And  ere  long  shall  be  heard  the  sounding 
From  war,  of  the  world's  release. 
July  20th,  1918. 


78  Inspirational  Poems 


A  MESSAGE 

We  come,  we  come  from  o'er  the  sea, 
To  tell  earth  ones  that  now  we're  free; 

Free  from  woe,  from  war,  from  strife. 
In  this  grand  and  happy  life. 

We  know,  of  you  who  still  are  left, 
That  many  have  lately  been  bereft 

Of  those  who  gladly  gave  their  all, 
When  our  dear  country  sent  the  call. 

But,  "greater  no  man  hath"  to  give. 
Than  his  earth  life  that  all  may  live, 

In  peace  and  freedom  evermore. 

From  sunny  France  to  our  dear  shore. 

And,  in  the  giving  we  would  say, 

"We  have  not  lost  but  gained  the  fray.  . 

We  have  outwitted  death,  for  see! 
We  live,  we  love,  and  we  are  free. 

So  shall  the  land  we  died  to  save, 
Accept  this  fredom  from  the  grave. 

Knowing  that  beyond  the  blue, 

"There  is  no  death";  and  all  are  true. 

Tell  the  loved,  who  weep  at  home, 

That  we  have  not  left  alone 
Those  who  loved,  and  whom  we  love, 

And  we're  near,  tho  "called  above." 

"Called  above"  is  but  a  phrase; 

The  condition  that  we  raise 
Around  us  on  the  mortal  plane, 

A  heaven  or  hell  for  us  will  gain. 

Thus  we  can  make  our  heaven  here. 
With  those  we  love  and  hold  so  dear; 

For  we  can  make  it  where  we  will ; 
Tho'  "called  above"  we're  with  you  still. 
August  8th,  1918. 


Inspirational  Poems  79 


THE  FOREST 

Would  you  catch  a  glimpse  of  beauty, 

Beauty  rare  and  undefiled? 
Then  visit  the  forest  fastnesses, 

Where  all  of  life  is  wild. 

Gaze  at  the  lofty  trees,  whose  heads 
Are  rearing  upward  to  the  sky; 

And  at  the  rocks,  whose  volume 
Speak  silent  language  to  passer  by. 

Then  from  the  heights  above  look  down. 
On  beauties  of  lake  and  stream; 

Whose  winding  length  and  crystal  falls 
Are  one  grand,  glorious  dream. 

Drink  in  all  this,  then  answer 

This  question  if  you  can; 
Which  of  beauties  are  the  rarer. 

Those  of  God  or  those  of  man? 

Then,  when  to  yourself  you've  given 
The  answer,  plain  and  true. 

Be  not  chary  of  your  praises, 

Give  them  ever  where  they're  due. 

Lift  your  voice  in  one  thanksgiving, 
As  you  kneel  upon  the  sod, 

To  the  Author  of  all  beauty. 

To  the  unseen  Power — ^your  God. 
July  27th,  1918. 


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yS   12079 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


